THE  VALENTINE  MUSEUM, 
BICHMCNO,  VIRGINIA. 

Mann  S.  Valentine, 


%  RICHMOND. 


m  10. 


Mi 


/ 


bo 


THE 

GNITTf 


OF 


HUMAN  NATURE; 

OR,    A    BRIEF    ACCOUNT    OF 

THE  CERTAIN  AND  ESTABLISHED  MEANS 

FOR    ATTAINING 

THE  TRUE  END  OF  OUR  EXISTENCE. 

IN  FOUR  BOOKS. 

1.  OF   PRUDENCE,  3.    OF  VIRTUE, 

2.  Or  KNOWLEDGE,      4      OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 


M Y  JAME 5  BURGH. 


fl  Qui  se  ipse  norit,  intelliget  se  habere  aliquid  Divinum,  semperque 
"  et  sentiet  et  faciet  aliquid  tanto  munere  dignum." 

Cicero. 


The  third  American,  from  the  first  London.  Edition. 

PRINTED  AND  PUBLISHED  BY  JAMES  ORAM. 
1812. 


tv,& 


TO 

HER  ROYAL  HIGHNESS 


THE 


PRINCESS  DOWAGER  OF  WALES. 


May  it  please  Your  Royal  Highness, 

\V ERE  the  subject  of  the  following  sheets  treated  in  a 
manner  suitable  to  its  importance,  the  work  would  make  an 
offering  worthy  of  a  Princess,  whose  character  and  con- 
duct exhibit  so  fair  a  pattern  of  the  Dignity  of  Human 
Nature.  The  gracious  condescension  voluntarily  shown  to 
the  Author  of  the  following  weak  Essay,  by  Your  Roy- 
al Highness,  on  various  occasions  (which  he  chooses  to 
touch  upon  in  the  slightest  manner  possible,  not  from  an 
unnatural  and  affected  insensibility  but  to  avoid  imputations 
altogether  contrary  to  his  temper  and  intentions  J  encou- 
raged him  humbly  to  hope,  that  Your  Royal  Highness 
would  deign  to  patronise  a  work,  which,  however  imper- 
fectly executed,  Your  Royal  Highness  knows  to  be 
sincerely  intended  for  the  purpose,  which  You  have  above 
all  things  at  heart ;  The  general  advancement  of  truth, 
virtue,  and  religion. 

Were  it  suitable  to  the  rank  and  abilities  of  the  author, 
it  would  be  very  much  so  to  the  design  of  the  following 
?vork,  would  make  one  of  the  noblest  parts  of  it,  and  might, 
in  happier  times  than  ours,  prove  of  advantage  to  those  of 
the  higher  ranks  in  life,  and,  through  them  to  a  whole  peo- 
ple ;  to  labour  to  delineate  a  character,  and  hold  forth  an 
example,  of  which  there  is,  in  this  part  of  the  world,  but- 
one  person,  that  ought  not  to  esteem  it  an  honour  to  be  the 
imitator.  But  to  say  nothing  of  the  disproportionate  quali- 
fications of  the  writer  for  so  delicate  an  undertaking,  there 
is  but  little  reason,  in  this  thoughtless  and  voluptuous  age, 


4  DEDICATION. 

to  expect  any  very  great  and  extensive  good  effects  from 
proposing  to  general  imitation  the  most  amiable  and  perfect 
model.  For,  alas,  to  admire  is  one  thing,  and  to  emulate^ 
another  :  And  it  is  even  to  be  doubted,  whether  Your  Roy- 
al Highness  has  influence  enough  to  change  the  fashion 
in  favour  of  virtue  and  religion.  While  a  continual  rouna 
of  idle  and  expensive  amusements  fi '11  up  the  bulk  of  our 
time,  and  is  looked  upon  as  the  very  Dignity  of  High  Life; 
•while  the  rape  of  gaming  is  carried  to  an  excess  beyond 
example,  so  that  even  the  sacred  day  of  rest  brings  no 
rest  from  that  endless  drudgery,  and  children  in  their  non- 
age, are,  to  the  disgrace  of  common  sense,  initiated  by 
masters  hired  for  the  purpose,  and  furnished  with  printed 
systems  of  the  liberal  science  of  card-playing  ;  while  the 
grand  study  of  people  of  rank  is,  How  to  drown  thought : 
While  such  is  the  genius  of  the  age,  what  hope  is  there, 
that  the  retired  and  unaffected  virtues,  which  dazzle  not 
the  common  eye,  and  appear  in  their  true  excellence  only 
to  Him,  who  sees  not  as  man  sees,  should  allure  the  un- 
thinking to  imitation  !  But  when  the  fluttering  tribe,  who 
form  the  crowd  at  routs  and  masquerades,  are  gone  down  to 
the  silent  grave,  and  have  entered  upon  a  state,  where  they 
will  flnd,  amusement  was  not  the  end  of  their  creation  ; 
then  will  the  honours  of  the  best  of  consorts,  and  of  pa- 
rents, shine  conspicuous  on  the  roll  of  fame,  the  delight  of 
a  wiser  race,  and  have  a  place  among  the  celebrated  names 
of  Arria,  Cornelia,  Porcia,  Marcia,  Attia,  Aurelia,  and 
others,  the  glory  of  the  amiable  sex,  whose  charms,  other 
than  of  paint,  or  dress,  or  ostentation,  will  ever  bloom 
with  unfading  splendour. 

Proceed,  illustrious  Princess!  Continue  Your 
pious  cares  informing  Your  lovely  Offspring  to  virtue  and 
to  glory.  The  same  superior  prudence,  which  has  enabled 
You,  in  a  country  where  licentiousness  of  speech  is  consid- 
ered by  the  people  as  one  of  their  most  valuable  privileges, 
to  sustain  a  character  of  such  dignity,  that  malice  itself 
struck  silent,  stands  awed  by  native  goodness  'and  unaffect- 
ed greatness  of  mind  ;  the  same  Divine  support  wh.ich  has 
saved  You  from  sinking  under  that  affliction  which  to  a  deli- 
cate spirit,  must  have  been  beyond  expression  severe  ;  the 
same  inspiring  Grace,  which  has  formed  Your  rising  fami- 
ly so  perfectly  to  Your  wishes,  that  regularity  and  piety 


DEDICATION.  5 

are  not  only  their  practice,  but  their  pleasure  ;  the  same 
all-ruling  Providence,  whose  peculiar  care  Your  Royal 
Highness  has  ever  been,  will  bri?ig  Your  worthy  labours 
to  a  happy  issue.  There  is  not  a  virtue  You  can  establish 
in  the  mind  of  any  of  Your  numerous  race,  that  may  not 
hereafter  give  happiness  to  a  kingdom.  Every  spark  of 
goodness  kindled  by  Your  care,  and  nourished  by  the  breath 
of  Heaven,  may  shine  a  propitious  star  on  Europe.  And 
the  concentred  glories  of  the  whole,  will,  in  the  higher  re- 
gions., shed  such  splendours  on  Your  future  elevation,  tlyut 
You  will  forget  that  ever  there  was  a  time  when  You  was  the 
most  amiable  and  admired  character  in  this  obscure  world. 

To  Your  Royal  Highness,  who  knoivs  that  the  same 
Divine  Authority  which  has  given  to  those  w/io  turn  many 
to  righteousness,  ground  to  hope,  that  they  shall  hereafter 
shine  as  stars  for  ever  and  ever,  has  also  taught  us,  that 
they  who  have  laboured  the  most  for  the  general  advance- 
ment of  virtue,  are  still  to  consider  tliemselves  as  unprofit- 
able servants,  having  done  only  xvliat  they  ought ;  to  Your 
Royal  Highness,  nothing  that  is  here  said  will  appear 
otherwise  than  as  a  set  of  thoughts  naturally  fiowing  from 
the  artless  pen  of  a  writer,  independent  in  temper,  and 
happy  in  the  prospect  of  passing  his  days  in  a  private  and 
useful  station  ;  but  warmed  with  the  idea  of  uncommon  ex- 
cellence, and  the  hope  of  extensive  advantage  to  mankind, 
from  the  pious  labours  of  the  best  of  Princesses. 

That  the  mild  ajid  gentle  reign  of  the  most  venerable  oj 
monarchs,  the  father  of  his  people,  may  be  long  and  pros- 
perous, and  that  he  may  be  blessed  of  the  King  of  kings  in 
his  person  and  family  ;  that  public  and  private  virtue,  and 
true  religion,  may  yet  again  raise  their  drooping  heads  ; 
that  luxury,  infidelity,  corruption,  and  perjury,  may  sink 
to  the  regions  of  darkness,  whence  they  first  arose  ;  and 
that  heaven  may  again  smile  propitious  on  these  once  highly 
favoured  nations  ;  that  the  inestimable  life  of  Your  Roy- 
al Highness  may  be  long  preserved  as  a  blessing  to  your 
family,  and  in  them  to  mankind,  and  that  your  noble  exam- 
ple may  be  more  studied  and  imitated ;    that   his   Royal 
Highness  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  the  other  branches  of 
your  illustrious  house  may  be  the  peculiar  care  of  heaven, 
a  blessing  to  the  world  and  a  crown  of  glory  to  Your  Roy- 
al Highness,  are  the  unfeigned  xvishes  of  one,  whom 


6  DEDICATION, 

ambition  would  never  have  prompted  ( though  your  gracious 
goodness  has  J  to  aspire  to  the  honour  of  subscribing  him- 
self thus  publicly, 

(May  it  please  Your  Royal  Highness^ 

Your  Royal  Highness' 

Most  devoted  and 

Most  faithful  humble  servant, 

JAMES  BURGH. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK  I. 


OF  PRUDENCE. 


OeNERAL  Design  of  the  Work    . 

The  Author's  Apology  .... 

General  Plan      ...... 

To  whom  chiefly  addressed    .... 

Importance  of  setting  out  in  Life  with  proper  Dignity 
Prudence,  its  advantages  .... 

General  Causes  of  imprudent  Conduct 

PART  I. 


Page 
17 
ib. 
18 
19 
ib. 
20 
ib. 


OF  PRUDENCE  IN  CONVERSATION. 


SECTION    I. 

Of  treating  the  Characters  of  absent  Persons 
Mischiefs  of  a  turn  to  Scandal 


22 
ib. 


SECTION    II. 

Of  venting  singular  Opinons 

Of  Modesty  in  disputing  » 

Of  being  satirical  upon  the  Infirmities  of  others 

Of  Rallying,  and  receiving  Railery 

SECTION    III. 

Of  Secrecy  and  Discretion 

Of  the  Choice  of  Companions  and  Friends 

Of  Boasting  or  Puffing 

Of  the  Company  of  Ladies 

Of  Story-telling 

Of  Visiting  where  there  is  no  real  Friendship 

SECTION    IV. 

Of  Swearing  and  Obscenity 

Of  Complaisance 

Of  Imitation  of  the  best  Models 

Of  Overbearing 

Of  a  passionate  Behaviour 

Of  Dress,  and  the  Circumstantials  of  Behaviour 


24 
ib. 

25 

26 


26 
27 
30 
32 
34 
ib. 


35 

36 
ib. 
37 
ib. 
39 


SECTION    V. 

One  hundred  and  twenty  Miscellaneous  Directions  on  Prudence  in 
versation      ........ 


Con. 


g  CONTENTS. 

PART  II. 
OF  PRUDENCE  IN  ACTION 

SECTION     I. 

Of  following"  Advice,  and  Submission  to  Superiors  ,  .  SS 

SECTION    II. 

Of  Methods  in  Business  ......  55 

Of  Application  .  .  ....  ib. 

Of  Attention  to  Times  and  Opportunities  ...  57 

Of  Trusting  to  others  ......  ib. 

SECTION    III. 

Of  Frugality  and  Economy      ......  58 

Of  Diversions      .  .  .  .  ...  .  t  62 

SECTION    IV* 

Of  Over-trading  ...  ....  64 

Of  Integrity  in  Dealing,  prudentially  considered      ...  66 

Of  lending  Money  ......  ib. 

Of  Caution  in  dealing  with  artful  People       .  .  .  .  ib. 

Of  finding*  out  the  true  Characters  of  Men  ...  67 

Of  Promisers      ........  68 

Of  Prudence  in  case  of  being  obliged  to  stop  Payments     .  .  ib. 

Of  the  Connexions  between  the  different  Parts  of  Men's  Characters  69 

SECTION    V. 

Of  Regard  to  the  Opinion  of  Otliers  ....  73 

Of  Quarrels         .....  j  ..  74 

Of  Duels  .  „  .  .  ...  .  .  75 

SECTION    VI. 

Of  Marriage,   and  Directions  for  proceeding  in  a  judicious  Manner  in 
that  important  Concern         .  .  .  i  .  .  76 

SECTION    VII. 

Of  the  Management  of  Children  .....  82 

Of  the  bodily  Infirmities  of  Children  ....  91 

SECTION    VIII. 

Of  the  peculiar  Management  of  Daughters,  and  Education  proper  for  them    94 

SECTION    IX. 

Of  placing  out  Youth,  intended  for  Business  ...  96 

SECTION    X. 

Of  choosing  Employments  for  Sons  according  to  their  various  Capaci- 
ties and  Turns  of  Mind       ...»  .  .  97 
Of  providing  Fortunes  for  Sons           .....            99 


CONTENDS.  9 

SECTION    XI. 

Of  settling  Children  of  both  Sexes  in  Life  -  i  .  100 

SECTION  XII. 
Of  retiring  from  Business,  and  Requisites  formaking  Retirement  agreeable    101 

SECTION  XIII. 
Of  Disposing  of  Effects  by  Will         •  •  •  •  .  102 

SECTION    XIV. 

Of  Old  Age,  and  Requisites  for  passing  through  it,  and  bearing  its  Infir- 
mities with  Dignity  .  .  .  .  ,  jq* 

SECTION    XV. 

Of  the  Dignity  of  Female  Life,  prudentially  considered  ,  105 

SECTION  XVI. 
Two  Hundred  Miscellaneous  Directions  on  Prudence  in  Action        ,  108 

BOOK  II. 

OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

Knowledge  valuable,  though  not  a  subject  of  Vanity     .  J  129 

Immense  Difference  between  an  improved  and  an  uncultivated  Mind      131 
The  Improvement  of  the  Mind  by  Knowledge  an  indispensable  Part  of 

our  Duty       .  .  .  \  ■  r  .,-,<» 

Human  Knowledge,  scanty  as  it  is,  truly  admirable  '.  "  ij£ 

Despisers  of  Knowledge  the  Disgrace  of  the  Species        .  ]  136 

SECTION    I. 

Of  Education  from  Infancy,  and  necessity  of  laying  the  Foundation  of  all 
Improvements  in  the  Knowledge  of  Morality        .  .  .  139 

Objection  answered      .  .  .  14. 

Of  Moral  Principles  fit  to  be  established  in  the  Minds  of  Children  at 
three  or  four  Years  of  Age  ...  Jh 

Essay  toward  a  Method  of  instructing  Youth  in  Morals  and  Religion 
at  private  Places  of  Education       .  .  .  .  .  j42 

Of  Exciting  in  them  a  Desire  to  understand  Holy  Scripture        *.  144 

SECTION    II. 

Intention  and  Method  of  Education  in  Human  Learning  .  149 

Plan  of  Education  from  six  Years  of  Age  to  the  finishing  of  the  Pue- 
rile Studies  ....  15O 
Queries  on  the  Constitution  and  Method  in  certain  Places  of  Education     ib- 
Cuncurrence  of  the  Parents  necessary                                   ,                         J54 


SECTION    III. 
Process  of  Education  from  four  Years  of  A^e  ;  and  first,  of  Grammar 

arm    lotm  • 


15S 


Of  French,  and  proper  Books  recommended  .'  '  .'  157 

Uf  Latin  Authors  proper  to  be  read  from  the  beginning  to  twelve  Years 

ot  A£C .  .  ib 

B 


10  CONTENTS. 

Of  Writing- and  Arithmetic,  and  proper  Books             .             .             .  159 

Of  Geometry,  and  proper  Books                        .             .             .  ib. 

Of  'he  Greek  Language,  and  proper  Authors              ...  ib. 
Of  Latin  Authors'  proper  to  be  read  from  twelve  or  fourteen  Years  of  Age 

and  upwards               .             ...             .             .             .             .  ib. 

Of  improving  their  Elocution                  .....  160 

Of  giving  them  a  Tincture  of  the  Principles  of  Criticism         .             .  ib. 

Or  Book-keeping            .......  161 

Of  the  Knowledge  of  the  Globes,  and  Geography,  and  proper  Books  ib. 

Of  Algebra,  and  proper  Books             .             .             .              .             .  162 

Of  Chronology,  and  Rudiments  of  History                   .             .             .  ib. 

Of  rational  Logic          .......  ib. 

Of  Experimental  Philosophy,  and  proper  Books,  and  Apparatus          .  163 

Of  Dancing,  Fencing,  and  other  ornamental  Accomplishments          .  ib. 


SECTION    IV. 


Of  Manly  Studies,  or  those  improvements  which  a  Gentleman  must  carry 
on  by  himself,  after  the  finishing  of  his  Education,   and  preparatory 
Books    f  .  ...  .  .  .  .  165 

Importance  of  getting  early  into  a  good  Method  of  Study      .  .  166 

Of  History,  Biography,  Theory  of  Government,  Law,  Commerce,  Econ- 
omies, and  Ethics,  and  proper  Books  ....  168 

Great  Advantages  of  the  Study  of  History  and  Biography;  and  Authors, 
ancient  and  modern  ......  ib. 

Of  Ecclesiastical  History,  and  proper  Books  .  .  .  173 

O.  the  Theory  of  Government  and  Law,  and  proper  ilooks     .  .  175 

Or  Commerce,  and  proper  Books  .....  ib. 

Of  the  Human  Mind,  and  proper  Books  ....  176 

Of  Economies,  and  proper  Books  .....  177 

Of  Ethics,  and  proper  Books  .....  ib. 

Of  Physiology,  or  the  Knowledge  of  Nature,  Advantages  of  that  Study  ib. 

Of  the  higher  parts  of  pure  Mathematics,  and  proper  Books  .  179 

Of  the  Newtonian  Philosophy  .  ...  185 

General  List  of  Books  on  the  various  Parts  of  Natural  Fhilosophy,  and 
Mixt  Mathematics  .  .....  ib. 

Apparatus  for  Experimental  Philosophy        ....  186 

SECTION    V. 

Of  forming  a  Taste  in  polite  Learning  and  Arts  .  .  186 

Error  in  carrying  this  to  Excess  .  .  .  •  •  187 

Extravagant  Admiration  of  the  Ancients  to  the  unjust  Disparagement  of 

the  Moderns  .  -  .  .  .  .  .  189 

General  List  of  the  Writers  in  Eellcs  Lettres,  and  polite  Arts,  ancient 

and  modern  .......  190 

SECTION    VI. 

Of  Travel,  its  Use,  and  Perversion  ....  193 

SECTION    VII. 

Of  the  comparative  Importance  of  the  various  Branches  of  Knowledge, 
respectively,  and  with  regard  to  different  Ranks  and  Stations  in  Life     195 

SECTION     VIII. 

Cautions  against  the  common  Errors  in  Study,  and  first,  Of  Over-reading  201 
Of  too  confined  Studies  ,         .  .  .  .  .  •  304 

Cii' ;  ,u -uini:  Studies,  inconsistent  with  one  another  at  the  same  time  ib. 

Of  reading  by  Fits  .....  ib- 


CONTENTS.  i  l 

Page 

of  laborious  Trifling               .             .              ....  204 

Of  Laziness  in  Study               .             .             .             •             .              .  ib. 

Of  Heading  for  Amusement  only     .....  ib. 

Of  knowing-  tbe  Extent  of  one's  natural  Abilities                  .             .  2U5 

Of  the  effects  of  People's  natural  Tempers  upon  their  Improvement  206 

Of  a  Turn  to  disputing-  without  sufficient  Funds  of  Knowledge     .  208 

Of  Partial  Heading-           •             •                      •             •             .    '        .  209 

Of  the  chief  Hindrances  to  Improvement       ....  210 

Of  Unsteadiness  in  Opinion         .         .              .              •              .             .  212 

Of  Declamatory  Writers          .             .            -             .  _          .             .  215 

Directions  for  examining  difficult  and  complex  Subjects                 .  ib. 

Clearness  of  moral  Subjects  compared  with  scientific          .             .  216 

BOOK  III. 

OF  VIRTUE. 

That  the  chief  Dignity  of  Human  Nature  consists  in  Man's  being"  a  moral 

Agent            .            .            .            .            .            .           .  218 

Our  Faculties  safely  trusted,  and  not  to  be  doubted  by  us                    .  ib. 

Certainty  attainable  in  Morals,  as  well  as  other  Subjects                   .  221 

Certainty  attainable  by  Sensation,  Intuition,  Deduction,  Testimony,  and 

Revelation                 ......."  225 

All  Evidence  finally  resolvable  into  Intuition          ...  ib. 

All  Truths  alike  certain  ;  but  not  alike  obvious                   .             .  227 

Recapitulation  of  the  above  Reasonings  on  Certainty         .            .  229 

SECTION    I. 

The  Being  and  Attributes  of  God  established,  as  the  Foundation  of  Morality  231 
Something  exists,  a  Truth  which  no  Man  can   doubt         .  .  232 

Something  must,  therefore,  have  always  existed,  which  exists  necessarily  233 
For  an  infinite  Succession  of  dependent  Causes  produced  one  by  another 

is  not  a  satisfying  Account,  how  something  comes  to  exist  nowr  ib. 

Nor  is  the  material  World,  nor  Chance,  the  original  Cause  .of  Existence     ib. 
The  first  Cause  of  Existence  must  be  One,  viz.  perfect  in  all  possible  con- 
sistent Attributes — in  Wisdom — in  Goodness — in  Power — in  Truth,  or 
Rectitude— and  in  every  other  natural  and  moral  Attribute  236 

That  Virtue,  or  Rectitude," in  a  created  Being,  is,  a  Conformity  in  Dis- 
position   and  Practice  to  the  necessary  and  unchangeable  Rectitude 
of  the  Divine  N  active  ......  ib. 

The  first  Cause  not  to  be  considered,  as  made  up  of  his  several  Attributes, 

any  more  than  the  Human  Mind  as  made  up  of  its  several  Faculties  237 
An  Essay  toward  the  most  perfect  Idea  the  Human  Mind  can  form  of  Deity  239 

SECTION     II. 

An  Idea  of  tbe   Divine  Scheme  in  Creation  .  .  •  240 

That  an  Universe  must,  in  Consequence  of  the  infinite  Wisdom  of  the 
Creator,  be  complete,  and  without  Chasms  between  the  various  Or- 
ders of  Beings         .......  241 

The  Happiness  of  conscious  Beings,  the  only  End  for  which  they  were 
brought  into  Existence         ......  242 

Happiness,  its  Foundation        .......  243 

Universal  and  regular  Concurrence  of  all  Parts  of  the  System  to  one 
great  End  absolutely  necessary  to  Universal  Perfection  and  Happiness  244 

Happiness  of  different  conscious  Beings  different,  and  in  what  it  res- 
pectively consists  .  .....  ib. 

The  inanimate,  or  material  Part  of  the  Creation,  how  made  to  answer 
the  Divine  Intention  ......  246 

Tiie  animal,  irrational  Natures,  how  brought  to  perform  their  Part  in 
the  Universal  Scheme         .  .  .  ,  .  .  24? 


%2 


CONTENTS. 


The  rational  Word  of  incomparably  greater  Consequence  in  the  Uni. 
▼ersal  System,  than  the  other  two  ....  247 

SECTION    III. 

Necessary,  in  order  to  understand,  wherein  the  Concurrence  of  the  Hu- 
man Species,  with  the  Universal  Scheme,  consists,  to  consider  a 
little  the  Nature  of  Man  .....  248 

That  we  are  equally  at  a  Loss  about  the  essential  Nature  of  our  Bo- 
dies and  our  Souls  ......  249 

Wherein  our  Superiority  to  the  animal  Creation  chiefly  consists  251 

Our  nature  and  State  altogether  incomprehensible,  without  taking  in  the 
View  of  oui   being  intended  for  Immortality        ...  ib. 

Proofs  ot  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul  taken  first  from  its  Nature  ib. 

Difficulty  of  the  natural  Impressions  made  bj  the  Soul  and  Body,  cleared 
up,  so  far  as  relates  to  their  being  of  different  Natures  .  253 

Presumptions  in  Favour  of  the  Opinion  of  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul, 
and  its  passing  through  different  successive  States,  from  Analogy       254 

Proof's  of  the  li  mortality  of  the  Soul,  and  a  future  State,  from  the 
moral  Attributes  of  God,  the  most  convincing  of  any,  except  those 
which  Revelation  yields  .....  255 

Unequal  Distribution  of  Happiness  among  the  inferior  creatures,  con- 
sidered, so  far  as  it  aficcis  the  Argument  .  .  257 

The  most  elevated  Mind  has  the  best  Assurances  of  its  own  Immortality  262 

SECTION     IV. 

Man's  present  Station,  in  regard  to  his  Prospect  for  Futurity,  desirable  262 

Th  t  the  tonne\ion  between  the  Conduct  of  moral  Agents  and  their  final 
State,  with  respect  to  Happiness  or  Mjser\,  is  reasonable  and  necessary  266 

That  there  is,  notwithstanding  this,  an  absolute,  independent  Rectitude, 
and  the  contrary,  in  the  Actions  of  moi  ai  agents,  separate  from  all 
Consideration  of  consequent  Happiness,  or  Misery,  which  Rectitude 
is  founded  in  the  Divine  Attribute  of  Rectitude  .  .  ib. 

That  however,  the  natural  consequences  of  Actions,  are  in  general  a 
»ery  sufficient  Criterion,  by  which  to  try,  whether  they  be  morally 
good  or  evil  .  .  .....  26S 

N"  possible  Scheme  for  bringing  the  human  Species  to  a  spontaneous 
Choice  of  Virtue,  or  to  a  due  Concurrence  in  their  Sphere,  with  the 
general  Intention  of  the  Governor  of  the  Woild:  but  Discipline  269 

That  Human  Virtue  consists  in  tin  proper  Application,  aid  due  Im- 
provement, of  our  several  Powers  ....  ib. 

Human  Liberty  of  Agency  established,  and  Objections  answered  270 

Probable  that  all  created,  rational  Beings  are  formed  to  Virtue  in  the 
same  Manner  as  our  Species,  to  wit,  by  Discipline,  and  Habit  272 

SECTION    V. 

That  the  State,  we  find  ourselves  in,  is  very  proper  for  a  state  of  Dis- 
cipline in  Virtue  ....  .  273 

Various  Instructions  for  this  purpose  presented  to  us  by  Nature,  by 
o>ir  own  Bodies  and  Minds,  by  the  Constitution  and  Course  of  the 
World,  and  above  all  by  Revelation  .  •  •  274 

The  whole  Sptcies  formed  naturally  capable  of  future  Happiness  278 

Difficulties  in  the  Divine  Economy  of  the  meral  World  attempted  to 
be  cleared  up  ....  -80 

Difficulties  to  be  expected,  and  even  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  Beauty, 
;:i  a  Scheme  so  august  ar.d  extensive       ....  288 


CONTENTS.  13 


SECTION    VI. 

Page 
That  our  Species,  and  all  rational  Agents,   in  order  to  their  perform- 
ing' their  Part  properly,  and  contributing  to  Universal  Perfection  and 
Happiness,  must  resolve  to   act    agreeably   to    the   threefold  Obliga- 
tion, which  they  are  under,  to  wit,  with  regard  to  Themselves,  their 
Fellow  creatures,  and  the  r  Creator  .  .  .  290 

Our  Duty,   with  respect  to  Ourselves,    consists    in  the  proper   Care  of 

the  two  Parts  of  our  Nature,  the  mental*  and  the  bodily         .  ib. 

Of  the   Passions  or  Motions  of  the  Mind      ....  292 

Previous  Directions  necessary  toward  the  due  Regulation  of  the  Passions  293 
Absurdity  of  Pride,  and  Advantages  of  Humility    .  .  .  295 

Necessity  of  Self-knowledge,  and  of  Self-reverence  .  .  298 

General  Rule  for  the  Conduct  of  the  Passions  .  .  300 

Of  the  Passion  of  Love,  or  Desire,  its  proper  Objects,  and  due  Regulation    ib. 
Of  Self-love  .......  302 

Of  Ambition,  or  Desire  of  Praise       .....  303 

Of  Anger  ........  304 

Of  the  Passions  of  Envy,  Malice,  and  Re\enge      .  .  .  305 

Of  Sympathy  .......  308 

Of  Fear  ........  ib. 

Of  Grief  ........  309 

Of  the  Love  of  Life    .......  310 

Of  the  Lo^e  of  Riches  ......  311 

Of  the  Appetites  of  Hunger  and  Thirst,  the  Use  and  Abuse  of  them         312 
Of  the  mutual  Desires  of  the  Sexes  .  .  .316 

Of  the  Love  of  Sleep  and  Indulgence — of  Diversions — and  of  Finery  in 
Dress  ...  .  ....  319 

SECTION    VIJ. 

Of  our  Obligations  with  respect  to  our  Fellow-creatures,  the  Foundation 
of  all  which  Duties  is  Benevolence  .  .  .  323 

Self-love,  why  made  the  Measure  of  our  Benevolence        .  .  324 

Summary  of  bur  Duty  to  our  Fellow-creatures       ...  ib. 

Of  Negative  Goodness  ......  325 

Of  Justice  and  Injustice,  with  respect  to  our  Neighbour's  property — to 

his  Reputation— to  his  Person — and  to  his  Soul  .  .  328 

Of  social  Duties,  and  first,  Of  the  Love  of  our  Country      .  v  338 

Reciprocal  Duties  of  Parents  and  Children — of  Spiritual  Pastors  and 
their  Flocks  —of  Teach-rs  and  Scholars  —of  Masters  and  Servants — of 
Husbands  and  Wives — of  collateral  Relations — of  Friends— of  the 
Rich  and  poor  .......  345 

Duty  of  the  Wise  and  learned,  and  all  who  are  possessed  of  uncommon 
Talents  and  Advantages       ......  348 

Duty  to  Benefactors  and  Enemies       .....  ib. 

Divine  Intention  in  engaging  us  in  such  a  Variety  of  Connexions     .  ib. 

Self-examination  on  the  foregoing  Heads  recommended        .  .  349 

SECTION    VIII. 

Of  our  Obligations  with  respect  to  our  Creator  ;  and  first,  Of  impres- 
sing our  Minds  with  a  rational  and  practical  Belief  of  his  Existence      351 
Of  his  Right  to  our  Obedience  and  Adoration  .  .  .  352 

Useful  Moral  Reflections  on  the  Divine  Attributes     .  .  .  354 

On  the   Omnipresence  of  God — his  Eternity — his  Power — his  Wisdom — 
and  his  Goodness       .......  355 

Of  the  Dutv  of  Prayer,  and  Objections  answered  .  .  366 

Of  Public  Worship  ......  372 

*  hnprovetiient  of  the  Understanding  treated  of  in  the  foregoing  Bosk. 


14  CONTENTS. 

Page 
Of  Family  Religion  .  .  .  *  372 

Of  Praising  God  .......  375 

Amazing  Stupidity  of  Numbers  of  Mankind,  who  altogether  neglect  their 
Creator,  and  all  the  Duty  they  owe  him       ....  377 

SECTION     IX. 

One  Hundred  and  Sixty  Miscellaneous  Thoughts,  and  Directions,  chiefly 
Moral  ........  878 

BOOK  IV. 
OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

That  supposing    it    possible,    or  probable,  that  a  Revelation  may  have 
been  given  by  God,  it   is    a    Duty    of  .Natural    Religion    to    inquire 
with  Candour,  into  its  Pretensions,  and  to  give  it  a  proper  Reception  397 
Th  t  there  is  nothing  absurd,  or  incredible,    in    supposing    that  a  Re- 
velation may  have  been  given         .....  398 
Of  tiie  Guiit  of  wilfull)  opposing,  or  neglecting,  a  Revelation  from  God  399 
Of  the  Wisdom  of  attending  to  Revelation                 ...  ib. 
A  direct  Revealed  Law  highly  proper  and  fit  for  such  Beings  as  Mankind      400 
Revelation  given  as  a  Fart  of  our  Trial  and  Discipline           .             .  ib. 
The  World  probably  never  wholly  without  a  Revelation                 .             401 
Previous  Requisites  for  a  proper  Inquiry  inio  Revelation               .             402. 

SECTION    I. 

Previous  Objections  against  a  Revelation  in  general,  ar.d  that  of  Scripture 
in  particular,  considered.  And  first,  Of  the  "Need  Mankind  stood  in,  of 
express  Information  from  Heaven,  in  answer  to  the  Objection  of  the 
Sufficiency  of  Human  Reason  f  r  all  Moral  Purposes  .  .  403 

The  Hottentots,  and  other  barbarous  Nations,  the  onl\  fair  Examples  of 
the  Reach  of  mere  Human  Reason  ;  most  Parts  of  the  civilized  World 
having  been  partly  illuminated  by  Revelation,  and  therefore  not  altogeth- 
er in  a  State  of  Nature  ....  .  404 

Of  the  State  of  the  Antediluvian  and  succeeding  Times,  and  Countries, 
in  which  Revelation  was  but  little  known  ...  ib. 

Of  the  Incapacity  of  nitre  Human  Reason*  in  religious  Matters,  as  it 
appears  in  the  Mahometan  and  Popish  Invenn  ds  .  .  407 

Revelation  not  intended  10  supersede,  but  improve  Reason  .  408 

Objection,  Of  the  Abuse  of  Revelation,  by  weak  or  designing  Men, 
considered  .......  409 

Of  its  bi  ing  unworthy  of  the  Divine  Wisdom  to  have  Recourse  to  an 
extraordin  try  Interposition  ....  410 

Revelation  analogous  to  the  Constitution  and  Course  of  the  World  411 

Absurdity  of  opposing  Revelation  on  account  of  its  not  suiting  our  pre-con- 
ceived  Notions  .  .  .  .  .  .  •  412 

Difficulties  to  be  expected  in  a  Revelation  from  God  .  .  414 

Difficulties  no  objection  ;  though  direct  absurdities  and  Contradictions  are  416 

That  Revelation  might  be  expected  to  suit  our  Notions  in  some  particu- 
lars and  in  others  to  difier  from  them  ....  ib. 

OftheScnpture-Siyle  ......  419 

SECTION    II. 


A  Compendious  View  of  the  Scheme  of  Divine  Revelation  .  421 

Thoughts  on  the  Extent  of  the  Prospect  opened  by  Revelation  .  422 

The  Accounts  given  by  it,  plainly  superior  to  Human  Sagacity  .  423 

Of  tiie  Creation — the  Fail,  and  Death,  its  Consequence — of  the  first  Pro- 
phecy of  a  future  Restoration  :)f  Mankind-  of  the  general  Deluge — the 
Noachic  Dispensation— the  Tower  of  Babci — the  Destruction  of  the  Ci- 


CONTENTS.  15 

Pag 
ties  of  the  plain — tne  call  of  Abralunn — the  miraculous  History  of  his 
Postery  the  Israelites  and  Jew* — the  Divine  Dispensation  to  that  People 
—and  the  Christian  Scheme  .....  424 

Reflections  on  the  Whole         >  436 

SECTION    III. 

Consideration  on  some   Particulars  in  Revealed  Religion  .  446 

The  Doctrine  of  Providence,  though  a  Point  of  Natural  Religion,  more 
properly  considered  under  Revelation  ;  as  receiving  from  thence  its  chief 
Confirmations  .......  ib. 

Arguments  for  its  Truth,  first,  from  Reason,  as  from  the  Necessity  of  a 

continued  Divine  Interposition,  and  Agency,  in  the  Natural  World  445 

Other  Arguments  and  Presumptions  from  Reason  .  .  446 

Best  established  by  Revelation  .  .  .    *        .  .  447 

The  Difficulties  relating  to  the  Effects  of  the  Fall,  upon  the  Species  in  gen- 
eral, considered  .......  449 

Of  the  general  De>uge  ......  450 

Of  the  Fallen  Angels  ......  454 

Of  the  Incarnation  and  Humiliation  of  Christ  .  .  .  456 

Of  the  Efficacy  of  his  Death  for  the  Restoration  of  Mankind  .  459 

Of  tiie  Resurrection  of  the  Body  .....  460 

Of  the  future  general  Judgment  .  .  .  .  .  462 

SECTION     IV. 

Considerations  on  the  Credibility  of  Scripture  .  .  .  463 

Requisites  for  thoroughly  examining  the  various  Kinds  of  Evidence  for 

Revelation  .  .....  ib. 

Fallacious  Proceedings  of  the  Opposers  of  Revealed  Religion  .  464 

Testimonies  of  Heathen  Writers,  which  countenance  Scripture         .  465 

Simplicity  of  the  Narration,  an  Argument  for  the  Truth  of  the  Accounts 

given  in  Holy  Scripture         .  .....  470 

Of  the  Scripture  Miracles         .  .....  472" 

Of  the  Difficulties  of  the  Dsemoniacs  ....  477 

Of  Prophecy  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  482 

A  view  of  some  of  the  most  unquestionable  Predictions  of  Holy  Scripture  ib. 
No  satisfactory  Account  to  be  given  of  the  Prevalence,  and  Establishment 

of  Christianity,  but  its  being  really  a  Divine  Institution  .  496 

That  Christ  must  have  either  been  truly  the  Son  of  God  and  Saviour  of  the 

World,  or  an  Impostor,  or  Madman  ....  499 

That  lie  could  not  be  either  of  the  latter,  shown  .  .  .  500 

That  the  Christian  Religion  is  not  a  pious  Fraud,  shown  .  .  502 

Presumption  in  Favour  of  Christianity  from  the  Conduct  of  those,  who  lived 

at  the  Time  of  its  first  Appearance — of  the  Apostles,  and  particularly  of 

St.  Paul  ........  506 

The  Character  and  Conduct,  or  Christ  himself  considered  more  particularly, 

as  a  Presumption  in  Favour  of  his  Religion  .  .  .     '   "     507 

CONCLUSION. 

Self-examination  recommended  to  the  Reader,  on  the  chief  Points  in  which 
the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature  consists  51* 


THE 


OF 


HUMAN  NATURE. 


BOOK  I, 


OF  PRUDENCE. 


INTRODUCTION. 


T. 


O  show  what  is  truly  great,  ornamental,  or  useful,  in 
life  ;  to  call  the  attention  of  mankind  to  objects  worthy  of 
their  regard,  as  rational  and  immortal  beings ;  to  give  a 
brief,  but  comprehensive  account  of  the  certain  and  esta- 
blished means  for  attaining  the  true  end  of  our  existence, 
happiness  in  the  present  and  future  states ;  is  the  design 
of  the  following  essay. 

The  motives  which  engaged  the  author  to  attempt  a 
task,  confessedly  too  arduous  for  any  single  hand,  were 
such  as  to  him  seemed  sufficient  to  justify  his  aspiring, 
where  even  a  failure,  if  not  too  shameful,  must  deserve 
praise;  as  encouragements  from  persons,  for  whom  he 
joins  with  all  mankind  in  having  the  most  profound  regard 
and  veneration ;  the  candor  he  has,  in  some  more  inconsi- 
derable attempts,  met  with  from  the  public ;  the  hope  of 
receiving  improvement  to  himself  from  digesting  and  com- 
piling such  a  work,  and  from  the  opinion  of  the  judicious 
upon  it:  these  several  considerations  had  deservedly  their 
respective  influence.  But  what  rendered  the  attemot  more 

C 


13  OF  PRUDENCE. 

proper  and  necessary,  was  a  direct  view  to  the  advantage 
of  some  young  persons,  in  other  parts  of  the  world,  as  well 
as  England,  with  whom  his  connexions  are  such,  as  to 
give  them  a  right  to  the  fruit  of  his  best  abilities  in  the  li- 
terary kind;  and  who  will  not  probably  fail  to  pay  a  pecu- 
liar regard  to  whatever  comes  from  him. 

To  exhibit  a  comprehensive  idea  of  the  true  Dignity 
of  Human  Nature,  it  will  be  necessary  to  consider  what 
is  fit  for  a  being,  who  at  present  inhabits  a  perishing 
body,  itself  an  immortal  spirit;  for  a  creature  capable  of 
action,  of  making  himself  and  others  happy  in  this  world, 
and  of  being  rewarded  and  punished  hereafter  according 
to  his  conduct ;  for  a  nature  fitted  for  social  virtue,  and 
brought  into  existence  to  be  prepared  for  glory  and  hap- 
piness. 

It  is  necessary,  in  order  to  a  man's  filling  properly  his 
place  in  society,  that  he  regulate  his  conduct  by  the  laws 
of  prudence  and  virtue.  To  answer  the  Divine  inten- 
tion in  furnishing  him  with  rational  faculties,  it  is  evi- 
dently proper,  that  he  labour  to  improve  those  faculties 
with  knowledge.  And  in  order  to  his  gaining  the  favour 
of  the  supreme  Governor  of  the  world,  upon  which  alone 
the  happiness  of  all  created  beings  depends,  it  is  plain. 
that  obedience  to  his  laws  is  indispensably  necessary, 
which  comprehends  religion,  natural  and  revealed.  The 
Dignity  of  Human  Nature  may  then  be  exhibited  under 
the  four  following  heads,  viz. 

I.  Prudence,  or  such  a  conduct  with  respect  to  se- 
cular affairs,  as  is  proper  in  itself,  and  suitable  to  re 
spective  circumstances,  and  naturally  tends  to  make 
a  man  happy  in  himself,  and  useful  in  society. 

II.  Knowledge,  or  the  improvement  and  enlarge 
ment  of  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  as  understanding, 
memory,  and  imagination. 

i  II.   \  i  r  t  u  e  ,  or  a  conformity  of  disposition  and  prae 
tieevto  rectitude  in  all  respects,  as  to  ourselves,  our 
fellow-creatures,  and  our  Maker. 

IV.  Revealed  Religion,  or  a  due  inquiry  in t c  . 
and  pAoper  regard  to,  any  express  revelation,  which 
the  Supreme  Being  may  have  given  to  mankind. 


OF  PRUDENCE.  19 

The  business  of  life  is  serious,  not  ludicrous.  No  or- 
der of  beings  (especially  of  rationals)  was  brought  into 
existence  wholly  for  pleasure  and  amusement ;  but  to  fill 
some  useful  place,  and  answer  some  important  end  in  the 
extensive  scheme  of  the  beneficent  Creator.  It  is  there- 
fore evidently  the  interest,  the  wisdom,  and  the  perfection 
of  every  rational  creature  to  look  to  it,  that  he  perform 
properly  the  duty  of  his  appointed  station  :  and  in  that  he 
will  in  the  end  find  his  glory  and  his  happiness. 

To  give  a  brief  view  of  what  is  principally  necessary  to 
the  dignity  of  human  nature,  it  seems  most  methodical  tr> 
address  the  following  directions  chiefly  to  those  readers, 
who  have  not  yet  gone  far  in  life,  but  are  at  the  same  time 
arrived  at  an  age  capable  of  improving  by  proper  helps,  and 
a  due  attention  to  their  own  interest,  when  faithfully  point- 
ed out  to  them.  Proceeding,  from  the  first  setting  out  in 
manly  life,  to  the  subjects  of  marriage  and  education  of 
children,  and  to  the.  conduct  of  more  advanced  age  ;  all 
the  stages  of  life  may  be  taken  in,  and  the  true  dignity  qI 
each  pointed  out. 

That  in  the  following  essav  there  will  of  course  be  want- 
ing  a  number  of  particulars,  more  or  less  conducive  to  the 
dignity  of  our  nature,  is  no  more  than  may  be  expected  in 
a  design  so  extensive.  If  it  be  found,  that  whoever  con- 
forms to  these  directions,  and  frames  his  character  accord- 
ing to  the  following  plan,  will  have  attained  the  most  con- 
siderable part  of  the  perfection  of  human  life  ;  it  will  be 
acknowledged  by  the  candid  and  ingenuous,  that  the 
throwing  together  into  one  view,  such  a  number  of  par- 
riculars  of  principal  importance,  was  attempting  a  service 
useful  to  the  public. 

As  young  people  have  a  prospect  (though  a  precarious 
one)  of  living  to  old  age,  it  is  of  consequence,  that  they 
be  early  put  upon  such  courses,  as  will  be  likely  to  render 
their  passage  through  life,  whether  longer  or  shorter,  easy 
and  comfortable.  A  person's  setting  out  with  proper 
dignity,  is  of  great  importance  toward  his  future  pros- 
perity ;  as,  on  the  contrary,  one  false  step  at  the  first  en- 
trance into  life  may  prove  irretrievable.  Mankind  fix 
their  attention  upon  the  behaviour  of  a  person  just  setting 
oat,  and  according  to  the  prudence  or  want  of  judgment, 


jQ  OF  PRUDENCE. 

they  observe  in  the  first  steps  he  takes,  pronounce  (too 
precipitately  indeed)  upon  the  whole  of  his  future  con- 
duct. Men,  in  active  stations  especially,  ought  to  con-, 
sider,  that,  at  their  first  entrance  into  life,  they  will  have 
the  ill-will  and  envy  of  many  rivals  and  competitors  to  en- 
counter ;  and  ought  to  remember,  that  it  will  require  no 
ordinary  degree  of  sagacity  to  defeat  the  designs  of  those, 
who  think  themselves  interested  to  make  a  bad  use  of 
every  miscarriage. 

To  this  end  there  is  nothing  so  indispensably  necessary 
as  prudence,  or  a  turn  of  mind,  which  puts  a  person  upon 
looking  forward,  and  enables  him  to  judge  rightly  of  the 
consequences  of  his  behaviour ;  so  as  to  avoid  the  mis- 
fortunes into  which  rashness  precipitates  many,  and  to  gain 
the  ends  which  a  wise  and  a  virtuous  man  ought  to  pursue. 

It  is  evident  to  the  meanest  understanding,  that  there  is 
a  fitness  or  unfitness,  a  suitableness  or  unsuitableness  of 
things  to  one  another,  which  is  not  to  be  changed,  with- 
out some  change  pre-supposed  in  the  things,  or  their  cir- 
cumstances. Prudence  is  the  knowledge  and  observance 
of  this  propriety  of  behaviour  to  times  and  circumstances, 
and  probable  consequences,  according  to  their  several 
varieties. 

A  turn  to  prudence  is,  like  all  the  other  endowments  of 
the  mind,  a  natural  gift,  bestowed  more  or  less  liberally 
upon  different  persons.  Some  give  promises  of  sagacity 
and  coolness  of  judgment  almost  from  their  infancy  ;  and 
others  never  arrive  at  the  mature  exercise  of  foresight  or 
reflection,  but,  in  spite  of  the  experience  of  many  years, 
seem  children  to  the  last.  At  the  same  time,  this  faculty, 
is  capable  of  great  improvements  in  almost  the  weakest 
heads ;  could  they  but  be  brought  to  bestow  a  little 
thought  and  attention,  and  to  listen  to  reason,  more  than 
to  passion. 

Imprudent  conduct  may  be  owing  to  a  person's  want  of 
opportunity  for  knowing  the  propriety  of  behaviour,  which 
is  the  case  of  young  and  unexperienced  persons,  who  have 
not  been  long  enough  in  the  world  to  know  it ;  and  of  rust- 
ics, academics,  and  recluses,  who,  though  they  have  lived 
long  enough,  have  not  lived  among  mankind,  so  as  to  ac 
mi  ire  a  due  knowledge  of  them. 


OF  PRUDENCE  2A 

Imprudence  is  also  ofien  owing  to  some  unhappy  turn 
of  mind,  which  gives  a  cast  to  people's  behaviour  contrary 
;o  their  better  knowledge.  Of  this  kind  are  false  modesty/ 
indolence,  and  propensities  to  particular  follies  and  vices- 

Rashness  is  a  great  enemy  to  prudence.  The  natural 
vivacity  and  warmth  of  youth,  and  of  people  of  sanguine 
tempers,  makes  this  folly  very  conspicuous  in  them.  It  is 
remarkable,  that  in  most  points  of  decorum,  the  female  sex 
have  the  advantage  of  us.  This  cannot  be  owing  either  to 
any  difference  in  natural  abilities,  or  to  greater  experience 
or  knowledge  of  the  world ;  but  to  the  natural  timidity  of 
their  tempers,  joined  with  the  delicacy  of  their  education, 
which  prevents  their  behaving  in  the  forward  and  precipi- 
tate manner  we  often  do,  to  the  disparagement  of  our  pru- 
dence, and  the  disappointment  of  our  designs.  The  pre- 
judices occasioned  by  evil  habits,  and  by  pride  and  pas- 
sion, contribute  greatly  to  the  blinding  of  human  reason, 
and  misleading  men  into  imprudent  conduct.  Of  which 
in  their  respective  places.  To  give  one's  self  up  to  be 
led  by  popular  prejudice,  is  as  likely  a  way  to  be  misled  as 
any  I  know.  The  multitude  judge  almost  constantly 
wrong  on  all  subjects  that  lie  in  the  least  out  of  the  com- 
mon way.  They  follow  one  another  like  a  flock  of 
sheep ;  and  not  only  go  wrong  themselves,  but  make 
those,  who  are  wiser,  ashamed  to  go  right.  And  yet  it  is 
not  prudent  to  be  singular  in  matters  of  inferior  conse- 
quence. 

That  a  genius  inferior  only  to  a  Shakspear  or  a  Milton% 
should  not  be  able  to  keep  a  coat  to  his  back,  to  save  him- 
self from  starving  amidst  his  poetic  fire,  at  the  same  tinae 
ihat  an  honest  citizen  whose  utmost  reach  of  thought  onh 
enables  him  to  fix  a  reasonable  profit  upon  a  piece  of  linen 
or  silk,  according  to  its  first  cost  and  charges,  should, 
from  nothing,  raise  himself  to  a  coach  and  six  :  to  account 
for  what  in  theory  seems  so  strange,  it  is  to  be  considered, 
of  what  consequence  it  is  towards  a  proper  behaviour,  that 
a  person  apply  a  due  attention  to  all  the  minute  circum- 
stances and  seemingly  inconsiderable  particulars,  in  the 
conduct  of  life.  Let  a  man  have  what  sublime  abilities 
he  will,  if  he  is  above  applying  his  understanding  to  find 
oj.it,  and  Ins  attention  to  purs.:.  :emc  of  life,  it  is  , 


22  OF  PRUDENCl.. 

little  to  be  expected,  that  he  should  acquire  the  fortune  of 
the  thriving  citizen,  as  that  the  plain  shopkeeper,  who  neA  er 
applied  his  mind  to  learning,  should  equal  him  in  science. 
There  is  no  natural  incompatibility  between  wit,  or  learn- 
ing, and  prudence.  Nor  is  the  man  of  learning  or  geni- 
us, who  is  void  of  common  prudence,  to  be  considered 
in  any  other  character,  than  that  of  a  wrong-headed  pedant, 
or  of  a  man  of  narrow  and  defective  abilities. 


PART  I. 

OF  PRUDEXCE  IX  CO.YVERSATIOX 


SECTION  I. 

Of  treating  the  Characters  of  absent  Persons. 

PRUDENCE  may,  in  general,  be  divided  into  two 
parts  :  first,  that  which  regards  conversation.  And,  se- 
condly, that  which  serves  to  regulate  action. 

As  to  our  words,  we  are  to  consider,  first,  whether  what 
we  are  going  to  say  had  better  be  spoke,  or  kept  in.  And 
the  only  time  for  considering  this  is,  before  we  speak  :  for 
it  may  be  too  late  afterwards.  Whatever  may  prove  to 
the  disadvantage  of  the  speaker,  the  hearers,  or  of  any  ab- 
sent person,  is  in  prudence  carefully  to  be  suppressed. 
Of  the  first  sort,  is,  whatever  may  prejudice  the  speaker,  as, 
by  exposing  him  to  prosecution,  by  discovering  his  secrets, 
or,  by  getting  him  ill-will,  Of  the  second,  is  whatever  may 
tend  to  debauch  the  virtue  of  the  hearers,  or,  by  affront- 
ing, work  them  up  to  anger  and  misbehavior.  And  of 
ihe  third,  whatever  tends  to  derogate  from  the  character  of 
any  absent  person.  To  treat  of  these  without  regard  to 
order : 

There  is  no  imprudence  more  common  or  universal, 
than  that  of  detraction.  I  speak  of  it  at  present  only  as  an 
imprudence,  reserving  the  immorality  of  that  practice  to 
another  occasion.     And  what  can  be  more  imprudent, 


CXF  PRtJDENXE.  ^3, 

Than  upon  the  mention  of  an  absent  person,  with  whom  I 
am  no  way  concerned,  to  break  out  into  invectives  and 
severities,  which  may  bring  me  into  disputes  and  trouble, 
but  can  answer  no  good  end  ? 

Did  men  but  consider  what  opinion  the  judicious  form 
of  those  they  see  delight  in  detraction,  they  would,  for  their 
own  sakes,  avoid  a  practice  which  exposes  them  to  the 
contempt  of  all  humane  and  considerate  people.  He  who 
takes  pleasure  in  speaking  to  the  disadvantage  of  others, 
must  appear  to  all  wise  men,  either  in  the  light  of  an  envi- 
ous person,  who  can  brook  nothing  eminent  in  another ;  of 
one  whose  mean  abilities  and  improvements  will  furnish 
no  better  entertainment  for  those  he  converses  with!  than 
disadvantageous  representations  of  others;  or  of  one,  who 
partakes  of  the  temper  of  an  evil  spirit,  and  delights  in  mis- 
chief for  mischief's  sake.  And  no  man  can  think  it  will 
tend  to  the  forwarding  of  his  interest  among  his  neigh- 
bours, to  procure  himself  any  of  these  characters. 

The  mischiefs  a  person  may  bring  upon  himself,  by 
evil-speaking,  either  by  exposing  himself  to  legal  penal- 
ties, or  to  private  resentment,  and  general  hatred,  are  so 
great,  that  prudence  will  direct  to  speak  of  every  man,  as 
one  would  do,  if  he  knew  the  person,  whose  character  is 
mentioned,  was  in  the  next  room,  overhearing  all  that 
passed.  For  one  can  never  be  sure  that  he  shall  not  be  call- 
ed upon  to  say  the  same  things  before  the  person's  face, 
which  he  has  taken  the  liberty  of  saying  behind  his  back. 
And  who  would  be  put  to  the  trouble  of  proving,  or  to  the 
confusion  of  recanting  his  words? 

Nor  is  it  enough  that  what  we  say  to  an  absent  person's 
disadvantage,  be  but  trifling,  or  of  no  great  consequence 
in  itself;  since  what  is  .said  in  conversation  lies  wholly  at 
the  mercy  of  the  hearers,  to  represent  it  as  they  please ; 
and  the  mere  repetition  of  what  has  been  said  without 
thought  or  design,  makes  it  appear  of  consequence.  It  is 
evident  therefore,  that  in  touching  upon  what  is  so  ex- 
tremely delicate,  as  the  characters  of  others,  there  is  no  safe 
method,  but  taking  the  good-natured  side  (where  anv 
thing  can  be  said  in  vindication)  or,  if  the  character  spoke 
of  is  wholly  indefensible,  total  silence  ;  neither  of  which 
is  liable  to  misconstruction. 


xJ4  OF  PRUDENCE. 


As  to  putting  the  easy  and  credulous  upon  their  guard 
against  the  artful  and  designing,  the  usual  pretence  for  ob- 
loquy; it  may  be  done,  without  hazard,  and  without  in- 
justice, by  anonymous  letters  in  a  disguised  hand,  to  the 
persons  we  think  in  danger  of  being  imposed  upon,  or  in 
any  other  prudent  way ;  taking  care  still  to  treat  the  charac- 
ter of  others,  with  the  same  tenderness  as  one  would  wish 
his  own  to  meet  with. 

It  will  ever  be  the  wisdom  of  every  person,  not  only  to 
avoid  the  odious  practice  of  evil- speaking  ;  but  to  make 
a  resolution  to  have  no  concern  with  those  who  are  given 
to  it.  If  I  find  a  person  takes  a  pleasure  in  misrepresent- 
ing others  to  me,  I  ought  to  conclude,  he  will  use  my 
character  in  the  same  manner,  in  the  next  company  he  goes 
into. 


SECTION  II. 

Of  venting  singular  Opinions.  Of  Modesty  in  Disput- 
ing. Of  being  satirical  upon  the  Infirmities  of  others. 
Of  Rallying,  and  receiving  Raillery. 

A  WISE  man  will  ever  be  cautious  of  venting  singular 
opinions  in  science,  in  politics,  and  above  all,  in  religion, 
where  he  does  not  perfectly  know  his  company.  He  will 
consider,  that  he  has  ten  chances  for  startling  or  displeas- 
ing his  hearers,  for  one  of  informing  or  setting  them 
right,  in  a  single  conversation  ;  the  bulk  of  mankind  being 
much  too  fond  of  their  own  opinions  and  prejudices,  to  de- 
sire to  come  at  truth  with  the  hazard  of  being  obliged  to 
give  up  their  beloved  maxims. 

A  man  of  prudence  is  always  modest  in  delivering  his 
sentiments,  even  where  he  is  absolutely  certain  that  he  is  in 
the  right,  and  that  his  opponent  is  totally  ignorant  of  the 
subject  in  dispute.  For  he  considers,  that  it  is  happiness 
enough  to  know  himself  to  be  in  the  right,  and  that  he  is 
not  obliged  to  battle  the  narrowness  and  perverseness  of 
mankind. 

It  is  likewise  proper  to  remember,  that,  in  a  dispute, 
the  by-standers  generally  take  it  for  granted,  that  he  who 


OF  PRUDENCE.  25 

keeps  his  temper  is  in  the  right,  and  that  what  puts  the 
other  out  of  humour,  is  his  finding  himself  in  danger  of 
being  worsted. 

A  prudent  person  will  carefully  avoid  touching  upon 
the  natural  infirmity,  whether  of  body  or  mind,  of  those 
he  is  in  company  with.  The  exposing  a  person's  imper- 
fections to  the  observation  of  others,  can  answer  no  end, 
but  irritating.  We  find  it  hard  enough  to  prevail  with 
mankind  to  look  into  their  deficiencies  themselves ;  but 
to  set  a  whole  company  a  gazing  at  them,  is  what  they 
will  never  bear  at  our  hands.  When  there  is  a  friendly 
hint  to  be  given,  for  correcting  some  failing,  if  it  be  done 
in  private,  or  by  an  anonymous  letter,  it  may  answer  the 
end  ;  whereas  the  rude  exposing  of  a  person's  weakness* 
makes  him  think  himself  obliged  in  honour  to  defend,  and 
consequently  to  hold  fast  his  error. 

A  wise  man  will  despise  the  conceited  pleasure  some 
hot-headed  people  take  in  what  they  call,  speaking  their 
minds  ;  that  is,  in  expressing  their  dislike  of  those  they  fall 
into  company  with,  in  a  blunt  and  rude  manner,  without 
the  least  necessity  or  prospect  of  advantage,  and  with  the 
certainty  of  affronting  and  disobliging.  For  he  will  con- 
sider, that  though  he  may  chance  not  to  like  the  make  of 
every  face  he  meets  in  the  street,  or  the  humour  of  every 
person  he  falls  in  company  with,  he  cannot  expect  either 
the  one  or  the  other  should  be  altered  immediately  upon 
his  expressing  his  dissatisfaction,  and  may  expect  to  have 
his  rude  remarks  retaliated  upon  him  with  interest.  As 
nothing  is  more  provoking  to  some  tempers  than  raillery, 
a  prudent  person  will  not  always  be  satirically-  witty  where 
he  can  ;  but  only  where  he  may  without  offence*  For  he 
will  consider  that  the  finest  stroke  of  raillery  is  but  a  wit- 
ticism :  and  that  there  is  hardly  any  person  so  mean, 
whose  good-will  is  not  preferable  to  the  pleasure  of  a 
horse-laugh. 

If  you  should  by  raillery  make  another  ridiculous, 
(which  is  more  than  you  can  promise  upon)  remember, 
that  the  judicious  part  of  the  company  will  not  think  the 
better  of  you  for  your  having  a  knack  at  drollery,  or 
ribaldry. 

Before  you  set  up  for  a  satirical  wit.  be  sure  that  you 

D 


26  OF  PRUDENCE. 

arc   properly  furnished.     If  you  be  found  to  be  a  bud 
archer,  they  will  set  you  up  for  a  butt. 

In  the  case  of  one's  being  exposed  to  the  mirth  of  a 
company  for  something  said  or  done  sillily,  the  most  ef- 
fectual way  of  turning  the  edge  of  their  ridicule,  is  by 
joining  the  laugh  against  one's  self,  and  exposing  and 
aggravating  his  own  folly  ;  for  this  will  show,  that  he  has 
the  uncommon  understanding  to  see  his  own  fault. 


SECTION  III. 

Of  Secrecy.  Of  the  Choice  of  Company,  and  of  inti- 
mate  Friends.  Of  Visiting  where  there  is  no  Friend- 
ship. Of  the  Company  of  Ladies.  Of  Story-telling. 
Of  Boasting,  and  Lying. 

AS  to  his  own  private  affairs,  a  prudent  person  will 
consider,  that  his  secrets  will  always  be  safer  in  his  own 
breast,  than  in  that  of  the  best  and  discreetest  friend  he 
has  in  the  world.  He  will  therefore  be  very  cautious  of 
imparting  them  ;  and  will  never  let  any  one  into  the  know- 
ledge of  them,  but  for  the  sake  of  profiting  by  his  ad- 
vice, or  for  somas  other  useful  end.  There  is  not  indeed 
a  person  among  many  hundreds,  to  whom  a  secret  is  not 
an  unsupportable  burden.  And  the  bulk  of  people  are 
so  extremely  curious,  that  they  will  fall  upon  a  thousand 
stratagems  to  make  the  person,  who  they  imagine  is  pos- 
sessed of  a  secret,  believe  that  they  know  most  of  it  al- 
readv,  in  order  to  draw  him  on  to  discover  the  whole  :  in 
which  they  often  succeed. 

A  prudent  person  will  always  avoid  diving  into  the  se- 
crets of  others";  for  he  will  consider,  that  whoever  is  weak 
enough  to  blab  his  private  affairs  to  him,  is  like  to  put  the 
same  confidence  in  others ;  the  consequence  of  which 
may  be,  that  he  may  come  to  be  blamed  for  what  was 
discovered  by  the  indiscretion  of  another,  though  reli- 
giously concealed  by  himself. 

If  you  cannot  keep  your  own  secrets,  how  do  you  think 
other  people  should ?  If  you  have  such  an  opinion  of  a 
person,  as  to  think  he  will  be  faithful  to  you,  he  has  the 
like  of  another,  and  he  again  pf  another,  and  so  your  secrcr 


OF  PRUDENCE.  27 

^oes  round.  You  ought  likewise  to  consider,  that  be- 
sides the  chance  of  unfaithfulness  in  him  to  whom  you 
trust  a  secret,  or  of  a  difference  arising  between  you,  the 
mere  circumstance  of  his  happening  some  time  or  other  to 
forget  himself,  may  be  the  occasion  of  his  discovering 
and  undoing  vou. 

As  to  the  choice  of  friends  or  companions,  the  num- 
ber of  which  ought  to  be  small,  and  the  choice  delicate, 
one  general  rule  may  be  laid  down,  viz.  That  a  man, 
who  has  neither  knowledge  nor  virtue,  is  by  no  means  a 
fit  companion,  let  him  have  what  other  accomplishments 
he  will.  No  advantage  one  can  propose  from  keeping  the 
company  of  an  ignorant  or  a  wicked  man,  can  make  up  for 
the  nuisance  and  disgust  his  folly  will  give ;  much  less 
for  the  danger  of  having  one's  manners  corrupted,  and  his 
mind  debauched.  Nothing  can  give  a  higher  delight, 
than  the  conversation  of  a  man  of  knowledge.  There  is 
in  a  mind,  improved  by  study,  conversation  and  travel,  a 
kind  of  inexhaustible  fund  of  entertainment,  from  which 
one  may  draw  supplies  for  many  years  enjoyment,  and  at 
every  conversation  receive  some  new  piece  of  information 
and  improvement.  On  the  contrary,  the  company  of  an 
ignorant  person,  must  soon  grow  tiresome  and  insipid. 
For  one  will  soon  have  heard  all  the  tolerable  things  he 
can  say  :  and  then  there  is  an  end  of  improvement  and 
entertainment  both  at  once. 

As  for  your  buffoons,  who  are  the  delight  of  superficial 
people,  and  the  fiddles  of  companies,  they  are,  generally 
speaking,  the  most  despicable  people  one  can  converse 
with.  Their  being  caressed  by  the  thoughtless  part  of 
mankind,  on  account  of  their  pleasantry,  gives  their  man- 
ners such  a  tincture  of  levity  and  foolery,  that  very  few  of 
them  are  good  for  any  thing  but  to  laugh  at.  And  as  a 
very  extensive  vein  of  wit  is  a  great  rarity,  you  will  gene- 
rally find  the  drolls,  you  meet  in  company,  have  a  set  of 
conceits  which  they  play  off  at  all  times,  like  dancing 
dogs,  or  monkeys  ;  and  that  what  chiefly  diverts,  is  rather 
some  odd  cast  of  countenance,  or  uncommon  command 
of  features,  than  any  thing  of  real  wit,  that  will  bear  re- 
peating. 

The  only  proper  persons,  therefore,  to  choose  for  inti- 


28  OF  PRUDENCE. 

mate  friends,  are  men  of  a  serious  turn;  for  such  one 
generally  prudent,  and  fit  to  consult  with  ;  and  of  esta- 
blished characters  :  for  such,  having  somewhat  to  lose, 
will  be  cautious  of  their  behaviour.  To  which  add  ano- 
ther qualification,  indispensably  necessary  in  a  friend, 
with  whom  one  would  expect  to  live  agreeably,  I  mean,  a 
good  natural  temper.  Nothing  more  forcibly  warms  the 
mind  to  a  love  of  goodness,  or  raises  it  more  powerfully 
to  all  that  is  truly  great  and  worthy,  than  the  conversation 
of  wise  and  virtuous  men.  There  is  a  force  in  what  is 
said  viva  voce,  which  nothing  in  writing  can  come  up  to. 
A  grave  remonstrance,  mixed  with  humanity  and  com- 
passion, will  often  awaken  thought  and  reflection  in  a 
mind,  which  has  stood  proof  against  the  finest  moral  les- 
sons in  books.  And  the  approbation  of  a  friend,  whose 
judgment  and  sincerity  one  esteems,  will  encourage  one  to 
go  lengths  in  every  commendable  disposition  and  practice, 
which  he  could  not  have  thought  himself  capable  of.  As, 
on  the  contrary,  a  little  smart  raillery,  or  a  smooth  flow  of 
words,  put  together  with  an  appearance  of  reason,  and 
delivered  with  an  easy  and  assured  air,  may  very  quickly 
shake  the  virtue,  or  unhinge  the  principles,  of  a  young 
person,  who  has  neither  had  time  nor  opportunity  for  es- 
tablishing himself  sufficiently, 

I  do  not  mean,  that  young  persons  are  to  take  upon 
trust  all  that  is  told  them  by  pious  people,  (some  of  whom 
may  be  very  weak  and  bigottedj  without  examining  into 
the  grounds  and  evidences  of  what  they  have  taught  them, 
and  without  allowing  themselves  an  opportunity  of  hear- 
ing both  sides  of  the  question.  This  is  more  than  reli- 
gion requires  ;  nay,  it  is  directly  contrary  to  what  it  re- 
quires :  for  it  directs  men  to  use  their  own  reason,  and. 
not  to  take  any  thing  of  importance  upon  trust.  Nor  can 
any  thing  be  more  unsafe  than  to  trust  that  to  another, 
which  I  ought  to  make  sure  of  for  myself  ;  which  is  my 
own  concern  infinitely  more  than  any  one's  else,  and  where 
I  alone  must  stand  to  the  damage.  My  meaning,  I  say, 
is  not  to  discourage  young  people  from  hearing  all  sides, 
and  conversing  among  people  of  different  ways  of  think- 
ing ;  but  to  guard  them  against  the  crafty,  and  the  vicious, 


OF  PRUDENCE.  09 

from  whose  conversation  they  will  be  sure  to  gain  nothing, 
and  may  lose  dreadful ly. 

As  the  slightest  touch  will  defile  a  clean  garment, 
which  is  not  to  be  cleaned  again  without  a  great  deal  of 
trouble,  so  the  conversation  of  the  wicked  and  debauched, 
will,  in  a  very  short  time,  defile  the  mind  of  an  innocent 
person,  in  a  manner  that  will  give  him  great  trouble  tore- 
cover  his  former  purity.  You  may  therefore  more  safely 
venture  into  company  with  a  person  infected  with  the 
plague,  than  with  a  vicious  man  :  for  the  worst  conse- 
quence of  the  first  is  death  ;  but  of  the  last,  the  hazard  of 
a  worse  destruction.  For  vicious  people  generally  have  a 
peculiar  ambition  to  draw  in  the  innocent  to  their  party  ; 
and  many  of  them  are  furnished  with  artifices  and  allure- 
ments but  too  effectual  for  insnaring. 

It  is  the  advice  of  a  great  man  to  his  son,  to  keep  the 
company  of  his  superiors,  rather  than  his  inferiors.  This 
direction  is  to  be  followed  with  discretion.  As  on  one 
hand,  for  a  gentleman  to  associate  constantly  with  mechan- 
ics, must  prove  the  most  effectual  means  of  sinking  him 
to  the  level  of  their  manners  and  conversation  ;  so  on  the 
other,  for  a  young  person,  who  is  born  to  no  great  fortune, 
and  must  resolve  to  make  his  way  in  life  by  his  own  in- 
dustry, to  affect  the  company  of  the  nobilitv  and  gentry, 
is  the  way  to  have  his  mind  tinctured  with  the  same  love 
of  idleness  and  expence,  which  even  in  people  of  fortune 
is  highly  blameable  ;  but  in  those,  who  have  no  such  pros- 
pects in  life,  is  certain  ruin.  The  supposed  advantage 
arising  from  the  friendship  of  the  great,  is  of  very  little 
consequence.  The  surest  way  to  ingratiate  one's  self 
with  the  bulk  of  them,  is  to  serve  their  pleasures,  or  their 
ambitious  views  :  A  price  infinitely  too  great  for  all  that 
their  favour  can  procure.  It  may  therefore,  I  think,  be 
concluded,  that  the  most  proper  companions  for  every 
man,  are  those  of  his  own  rank  in  life. 

It  has  been  the  misfortune  of  many  in  friendship,  as  in 
love,  to  form  to  themselves  such  romantic  notions,  of  I 
know  not  what  sublimities,  as  will  not  answer  in  real  life, 
and  to  make  themselves  miserable  upon  meeting  with  dis- 
appointments. Whoever  thinks  to  find  an  object  of  love 
or  friendship,  in  whom,  after  long  acquaintance  andfami- 


30  OF  PRUDENCE. 

liarity,  nothing  faulty  or  defective  shall  appear,  must  go 
among  superior  orders  of  beings  in  search  of  what  he 
wants  :  human  nature  will  furnish  no  such  characters.- 
He  who  has  found  a  friend,  capable  of  keeping  a  secret, 
of  giving  sincere  and  judicious  advice,  of  entertaining  and 
instructing  by  his  conversation,  and  ready  to  show  his  af- 
fection by  actions  as  well  as  words ;  he  who  has  found 
such  a  friend,  and  drops  him  for  any  weakness  not  incon- 
sistent with  these  qualities,  shows  himself  unworthy  of 
such  an  inestimable  treasure. 

As  a  temper  too  reserved  and  suspicious,  forbidding 
the  approach  of  a  stranger,  is  an  indication  of  a  crafty  dis- 
position, or  at  least  of  a  timorous  and  narrow  mind ;  so 
throwing  open  one's  arms  to  every  forward  intruder,  is  a 
proof  of  egregious  want  of  prudence  and  knowledge  of 
the  world.  Those  pert  and  insinuating  people,  who  be- 
come, all  of  a  sudden,  and  without  any  reason,  the  most 
zealous  and  sanguine  friends,  are  ever  to  be  suspected  of 
some  indirect  design.  The  wisdom  of  behaviour  there- 
fore is,  to  communicate  your  knowledge  to  all,  who  seem 
willing  to  receive  it ;  your  private  affairs  only  to  persons 
of  approved  secrecy  and  judgment,  and  to  them  no  more 
than  is  absolutely  necessary  ;  to  have  many  acquaintance, 
but  few  intimates  ;  to  open  your  countenance  to  all,  your 
v    heart  to  very  kw. 

Never  think  of  friendship  with  a  covetous  man :  He 
loves  his  money  better  than  his  friend.  Nor  with  a  man 
of  pleasure  :  He  has  not  gravity  enough  to  render  his 
conversation  improving.  Nor  with  a  wicked  man  :  He 
will  corrupt  you.  Nor  with  a  silly  fellow  :  His  empti- 
ness will  disgust  you.  Nor  with  a  drunkard :  He  will 
betray  your  secrets.  A  passionate  fellow  will  affront  you, 
A  conceited  man  will  expect  you  to  submit  to  him  in 
every  thing.  A  mean-spirited  creature  will  disgrace  you. 
A  bully  will  draw  you  into  his  quarrels.  A  spendthrift 
will  borrow  your  money.  A  very  poor  fellow  will  make 
your  life  unhappy.  A  man  of  overgrown  fortune  will 
draw  you  into  his  expensive  way  of  living. 

There  is  no  folly  more  common  among  young  people 
than  that  of  puffing  or  boasting  ;  at  which  some  are  ex- 
tremely awkward,  putting  their  accounts  of  their  pretend 


OF  PRUDENCE.  31 

cd  feats  together  in  a  manner  so  inconsistent  and  contra- 
dictory, that  their  hearers  never  fail  to  detect  them  for 
mere  fictions. 

Some  will  be  ever  ascribing  to  themselves  witty  say- 
ings, which  they  have  heard  in  company,  or  perhaps  read 
in  books.  Some  will  pretend  to  have  performed  things, 
which  if  they  be  challenged  to  do  again,  they  are  obliged 
to  own  they  cannot.  Many,  who  have  never  had  opportu- 
nity or  capacity  for  stud}',  endeavour  to  persuade  those 
that  converse  with  them,  that  they  have  gone  through  the 
whole  circle  of  the  sciences,  and  will  pretend  to  have  read 
every  book  you  can  name.  Others  will  be  stunning  all 
companies  with  the  great  acquaintance  they  have,  and 
talking  of  intimacies  with  eminent  persons,  whom  perhaps 
in  truth  they  hardly  know  by  sight./  And  others  are  guilty 
of  this  vice  to  a  degree  still  incomparably  more  wicked  ;  I 
mean,  those  who  delight  in  blasting  the  characters  of  la- 
dies, whose  favours  they  boast,  when  they  have  never 
been  so  much  as  in  their  company.  This  infamous  prac- 
tice has  cost  some  of  these  vain  and  wicked  boasters,  all 
they  were  worth,  i 

The  most  effectual  means  I  know,  for  avoiding  or  get- 
ting rid  of  this  foolish  habit  of  boasting,  is,  to  accustom 
one's  self  to  speak  as  little  as  possible  in  the  first  person. 
The  figure  of  Egotism  is  one  of  the  most  ungraceful  that 
can  enter  into  any  man's  conversation  or  writings,  though 
it  is  to  be  met  with  in  some  of  the  most  eminent  both  of 
ancient  and  modern  times. 

But  if  it  gives  a  man  a  disadvantageous  appearance  to 
be  himself  the  historian  of  the  actions  he  has  really  done, 
what  a  contemptible  light  must  he  appear  in,  who,  in  or- 
der to  set  himself  off,  has  recourse  to  falsehood  \ '(To  what 
a  degree  of  baseness  must  that  mind  be  sunk,  which  can 
descend  so  low  as  to  invent  a  lie  ?\  We  see  a  sense  of  ho- 
nour upon  this  point,  often  remains  in  the  mind,  when 
every  thing  else  that  relishes  of  virtue  is  gone.  The 
town-rake,  who  will  make  no  hesitation  at  murder  or  adul- 
tery, will  yet  take  the  imputation  of  a  lie  whether  just  or 
unjust,  for  an  affront  not  to  be  expiated,  but  with  blood. 
For  he  looks  on  other  crimes  as  venial,  or  perhaps  as  acts 
of  heroism  ;  but  falsehood  is  universally  owned  to  imply 


32  OF  PRUDENCE. 

in  it  a  peculiar  degree  of  mean-spirited  i  ids.  Nor  will 
any  man  allow  himself  in  this  base  practice,  who  considers 
(abstracting  from  the  vice)  the  gross  imprudence  of  ex- 
posing himself  to  the  universal  contempt,  which  always 
falls  upon  the  character  of  a  liar,  who  of  course  loses  the 
confidence  of  mankind,  even  when  he  speaks  truth.  J 

If  one  has  given  any  just  cause  of  disobligatlon,  the 
proper  part  to  act,  is,  frankly  to  own  the  offence,  and  ask 
the  injured  person's  pardon  ;  and  it  must  only  be  from 
excessive  pride  and  obstinacy,  that  one  will  refuse  what  is 
so  reasonable.  And  how  much  more  manly  is  such  be- 
hr.viour,  than  to  have  recourse  to  the  base  subterfuge  of  a 
lie,  or  equivocal  evasion  ! 

Falsehood  is  indeed,  on  all  accounts,  inexcusable,  and 
can  never  proceed  but  from  some  unworthy  principle,  as 
cowardice,  malice,  or  a  total  contempt  of  virtue  and  ho- 
nour. )  And  the  difficulties  it  runs  one  into,  are  not  to  be 
numbered.  One  lie  requires  ten  others  to  support  it. 
And  the  failure  of  probability  in  one  of  them,  ruins  all. 
The  pains  necessary  to  patch  up  a  plausible  story,  and  the 
racking  of  the  memory  to  keep  always  to  the  same  circum- 
stances in  representing  things,  so  as  to  avoid  contradic- 
tions, is  unsufferable.  And  after  all,  it  is  a  thousand  to  one, 
but  the  artifice  is  detected  ;  and  then  the  unhappy  man  is 
questioned  as  much,  when  he  is  sincere,  as  when  he  dis- 
sembles ;  so  that  he  finds  himself  at  a  full  stop,  and  ear: 
neither  gain  his  ends  with  mankind  by  truth  nor  falsehood. 

As  it  is  common  and  natural  for  young  gentlemen  to 
court  the  company  of  the  ladies,  it  is  proper  to  give  them 
some  directions  upon  that  subject. 

It  is  certain,  that  the  elegancy  of  behaviour,  and  that 
universally  engaging  accomplishment  of  complaisance,  arc 
no  where  to  be  learned  but  in  the  conversation  of  that  deli- 
cate part  of  our  species.  And  it  is  likewise  certain,  that 
in  the  company  of  ladies  there  is  less  to  be  met  with  that  is 
likely  either  to  shock,  or  to  corrupt  an  innocent  person, 
than  in  the  conversation  of  even  the  tolerable  sober  part  of 
our  sex.  But  as  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  confess- 
ed, that  their  being  deprived  of  the  advantages  we  have 
for  enlarging  our  knowledge,  renders  their  conversation 
less  impro\  jug,  it  must  be  allowed,  that  to  spend  the  bulk 


OF  PRUDENCE.  33 

of  one's  leisure  in  their  company  is  not  to  be  justified; 
nor  indeed  do  they  expect  it,  but,  on  the  contrary,  heartily 
despise  the  effeminate  tribe  of  danglers.  A  prudent  man 
will  therefore  only  seek  the  conversation  of  the  ladies  oc- 
casionally ;  and,  where  he  does,  he  will  not  enter  wholly 
into  their  manners,  but  will,  by  easy  and  engaging  ways, 
endeavour  to  draw  them  into  conversation  that  may  be 
more  entertaining  to  himself,  and  more  improving  to  them, 
than  the  usual  chit-chat  of  the  tea-table.  Nor  is  a  man 
in  any  hazard  of  giving  disgust  by  this  proceeding,  unless 
his  manner  of  introducing  such  subjects  be  somewhat 
affected,  or  gloomy,  or  overbearing.  On  the  contrary, 
the  more  sensible  part  of  the  sex  always  expect  to  hear 
from  us  something  different  from,  and  superior  to  the  su- 
perficial stuff,  of  fashions,  love  affairs,  and  remarks  on 
neighbours  ;  and  entertain  but  contemptible  notions  of  a 
man,  who  is  furnished  with  no  better  topics  than  these, 
There  are  many  of  that  sex,  who  have  made  so  good  use 
of  the  mean  advantages  we  allow  them  for  improving 
themselves,  that  their  judgment  will  be  found  preferable 
to  that  of  many  men,  on  prudentials  and  morals,  (science 
they  do  not  pretend  to ;)  but  these  are  chiefly  such  as 
have  had  the  advantage  of  experience  and  conversation. 
The  usual  trash  of  compliment  and  flattery,  with  which 
that  contemptible  order  of  mortals,  commonly  called  fops, 
are  wont  to  entertain  the  ladies,  is  equally  shameful  to 
those  who  utter,  and  those  who  receive  it.  And  none  but 
the  most  superficial  part  of  the  sex  are  to  be  imposed  upon 
by  it ;  nor  can  any  thing  show  a  man  in  a  more  ridiculous 
light,  than  to  be  convicted  of  attempting  to  flatter,  with- 
out sufficient  address  to  conceal  his  design.  The  w  hole 
of  it  is  mean  and  disingenuous,  and  unworthy  of  the  open 
plainness  and  sincerity,  so  graceful  in  our  sex*  At  the 
same  time  as  the  ladies  are  but  little  accustomed  to  hear 
the  plain  truth,  much  less  disagreeable  truths,  a  man  of 
prudence  will  avoid  contradicting  or  blaming  them  too 
bluntly,  knowing,  that  by  such  behaviour  there  is  nothing 
to  be  got  but  their  ill-will.  Toying  or  romping  with  hand- 
some women,  however  distant  it  may  be  from  any  direct 
design  upon  them,  being  yet  unsuitable  to  the  delicacy  of 
genteel  behaviour,  and  tending  naturallv  to  promote  levt- 

E 


34  OV  PRUDENCE. 

ty,  if  not  to  excite  irregular  desires  in  young  minds,  is 
what  I  would  wish  wholly  discouraged. 

As  there  is  no  accomplishment  more  agreeable  in  a  com- 
panion, when  people  want  to  relax,  than  a  nack  at  telling 
a  story ;  there  is  no  part  of  conversation,  in  which  men 
expose  themselves  more  egregiously.  The  entertainment, 
and  instruction,  which  companies  receive  from  a  well  told 
story,  of  which  history  and  lives  furnish  the  best  materials, 
naturally  make  people  desirous  of  being  thought  to  possess 
a  talent  so  agreeable.  And  those  whom  nature  has  not  fit- 
ted out  with  the  proper  abilities,  cannot  miss  to  execute 
what  they  undertake  in  an  awkward  manner.  The  chief 
of  the  errors  in  telling  a  story,  are  the  following,  viz.  Te- 
diousness  in  dwelling  upon  insignificant  circumstances, 
which  do  not  interest  the  company.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  curtailing  too  much,  and  leaving  out  such  circum- 
stances as  tend  to  characterize  the  persons  in  the  story,  or 
are  otherwise  essential.  Overrunning  the  proper  conclu- 
sion, or  catastrophe  of  the  narration.  Overacting  the  hu- 
mourous or  lively  parts ;  or  drawling  on  the  narration  in 
an  unanimated  manner. 

The  most  witty  and  facetious  companion  in  the  worlds 
may  make  himself  as  thoroughly  disagreeable  as  the  most 
insipid  mortal  that  can  go  into  company.  Let  such  a  one 
labour  to  be  witty,  and  strain  for  line  things.  Let  him 
stun  the  company  with  noise  and  forward  impertinence  ; 
or  let  him  show  a  contempt  for  them,  by  a  sullen  silence  ; 
and  he  shall  be  as  heartily  despised  as  ever  he  was  admired. 

I  do  not  think  it  would  be  easy  to  invent  a  sillier  custom, 
than  that  which  universally  prevails  at  present,  of  visiting 
where  there  is  no  real  regard  or  esteem.  There  is  no  keep- 
ing up  a  correspondence  of  this  kind,  without  being  guil- 
ty of  infinite  dissimulation.  And  they  must  set  politeness 
at  a  high  rate  indeed,  who  will  give  up  integrity  for  it. 

But  to  consider  this  matter  only  in  a  prudential  light, 
which  is  the  business  at  present,  I  should  be  glad  to  know 
wherein  appears  the  wisdom  of  throwing  away  time  (which 
one  may  always  apply  in  some  manner  agreeable  to  one's 
self)  upon  people,  whom  one  heartily  despises.  Whc  re 
interest  obliges  people  in  business  to  show  civility  to  their 
customers,  or  those  they  have  connexions  with  in  life,  there 
Is  some  pretence  of  necessity  for  keeping  up  such  a  com- 


OF  PRUDENCE.  35 

mercc.  But  why  people  in  high  and  independent  stations, 
should  think  it  necessary  to  spend  so  many  hours  in  visits, 
to  themselves  insipid  and  disagreeable,  is  to  me  wholly  in- 
conceivable. When  there  are  so  many  noble  employ- 
ments, and  elegant  amusements  to  fill  up  the  time  of  peo- 
ple of  figure,  it  grieves  one  to  see  them  make  themselves 
useless  to  their  country,  and  unhappy  in  themselves,  by 
wasting  their  hours  in  the  slavery  of  disagreeable  visits, 
and  the  endless  drudgery  of  the  card-table.  To  see  people 
of  rank  descend  to  such  low  foolery,  as  visiting  those 
whom  they  hate  or  despise  ;  denying  themselves  by  their 
servants,  when  they  are  really  at  home,  to  avoid  the  visits 
of  those  themselves  have  invited,  making  pretended  visits 
to  those  they  know  to  be  abroad,  and  even  sending  their 
empty  coaches  to  perform  those  mock  ceremonies ;  to  ob- 
serve all  this  hypocritical  farce,  carried  on  by  people  of  high 
rank,  how  does  it  degrade  them  in  the  eyes  of  their  infe- 
riors ! 


SECTION  IV. 

Of  Swearing  and  Obscenity.      Of  Complaisance.     Of 
Overbearing.     Of  Passion.     Of  acknowledging  Faults. 
Of  wrangling  in  conversation.     Of  the  Importance  of 
Circumstantials  in  Behaviour. 

ONE  may  lay  down  the  following,  as  a  maxim  which 
will  never  fail,  viz.  That  so  long  as  his  conversation  is 
entertaining,  and  behaviour  affable  and  modest,  he  will  be 
sure  to  be  treated  with  respect,  though  his  discourse  be 
quite  sober  and  chaste. 

Swearing  and  obscenity  are  offences  not  only  against  all 
th?t  is  sacred,  but  against  all  that  is  polite,  They  are  sins 
without  temptation,  without  alleviation,  and  without  re^ 
ward.  Swearing  is  an  affront  to  all  sober  and  well-behav- 
ed people.  It  confounds  and  interrupts,  instead  of  grac- 
ing conversation ;  as  the  continual  repetition  of  any  set 
of  unmeaning  words,  from  time  to  time,  necessarily  must. 

As  for  obscenity,  every  one  knows  it  must  shock  and 
startle  every  modest  ear.  It  gives  no  real  pleasure ;  but 
on  the  contrary,  if  it  has  any  effect,  must  excite  and  irri- 
tate the  passions,  without  gratifying  them,  which  is  pain 


36  OF  PRUDENCE. 

and  torment.  If  obscenity  is  fit  conversation  only  for 
public  stews,  it  cannot  be  proper  among  genteel  people  ; 
and  no  person  deserves  the  appellation  of  a  gentleman,  who 
accustoms  himself  to  the  behaviour  of  whoremasters  an<l 
prostitutes.  For  it  is  manners,  and  not  dress,  that  form 
that  character. 

If  the  definition  of  true  good  manners  be,  That  beha- 
viour, which  makes  a  man  easy  in  himself,  and  easy  to  all 
about  him  ;  it  can  never  be  good  manners  to  be  trouble- 
some by  an  excess  of  ceremony,  by  overpressing  to  eat  or 
drink,  or  by  forcing  a  favour  of  any  kind,  upon  those 
we  converse  with.  Nor  can  it  be  said  to  be  consistent 
with  good  behaviour,  to  overdo  the  complimenting  part, 
so  as  to  border  upon  insipid  flattery  ;  nor  does  politeness 
by  any  means  require  that  we  exceed  our  inclination,  or 
cross  our  particular  taste,  in  eating  and  drinking  what  may 
be  pressed  upon  us,  to  our  own  disgust ;  much  less  to  the 
prejudice  of  cur  health  or  temperance. 

No  one  can  be  long  at  a  loss,  as  to  behaviour,  who  ob- 
serves the  two  following  directions,  and  is  in  earnest  re- 
solved to  regulate  his  conduct  upon  them,  viz.  first,  That 
the  way  to  be  generally  agreeable  in  conversation,  is  to 
show,  that  one  has  less  at  heart  the  humouring  his  own  in- 
clinations, than  those  of  the  company,  and  that  he  is  not 
so  full  of  himself  as  to  overlook  or  despise  others  ;  and, 
secondly,  That  the  grace  of  behaviour  is  to  be  learned  only 
from  the  imitation  of  the  judicious  and  polite. 

But  care  must  be  taken,  that  your  imitation  be  not  so 
slavish  as  to  strip  you  of  your  natural  character  and  beha- 
viour, and  disguise  you  in  those  of  another,  which,  being 
assumed,  and  artificial,  will  not  become  you.  For  nature 
in  russet  is  more  agreeable  than  affectation  in  embroidery. 

There  is  nothing  that  costs  less,  and  gains  more  friends, 
than  an  affable  and  courteous  behaviour.  One  may  always 
observe,  that  those,  who  have  been  accustomed  to  the  best 
company,  behave  with  the  greatest  freedom  and  good 
nature.  People  of  figure  and  real  worth,  having  reason 
to  expect  that  others  will  treat  them  with  suitable  respect, 
do  not  find  it  necessary  to  assume  any  airs  of  superiority. 
Whereas,  the  vain  and  conceited,  who  fancy  no  submis- 
sion whatever,  is  equal  to  their  dignity,  are  ever  endeavour- 
ing, by  a  haughty  carriage,  to  keep  up  that  respect  in 


OF  PRUDENCE.  37 

others,  which  their  want  of  real  merit  cannot.  But  how  ill 
they  succeed,  is  easy  to  observe,  from  the  universal  con- 
tempt and  disgust  such  a  behaviour  meets  with  among  all 
judicious  people. 

The  truth  of  the  matter  is,  that  the  differences  between 
one  person  and  another  are,  in  respect  to  every  circum- 
stance, but  that  of  virtue,  so  very  inconsiderable,  a-,  to  ren- 
der any  insolent  superiority  on  the  one  hand,  or  mean  sub- 
mission on  the  other,  extremely  ridiculous  ;  since,  accord- 
ing to  the  elegant  expression  of  Scripture,  u  Man  is  but 
a  worm,  and  the  son  of  man  a  worm." 

Nothing  shows  a  greater  abjectness  of  spirit,  than  an 
overbearing  temper,  appearing  in  a  person's  behaviour  to 
inferiors.  To  insult  or  abuse  those  who  dare  not  answer 
again,  is  as  sure  a  mark  of  cowardice,  as  it  would  be  to  at- 
tack with  a  drawn  sword  a  woman  or  a  child.  And  wher- 
ever you  see  a  person  given  to  insult  his  inferiors,  you  may 
assure  yourself  he  will  creep  to  his  superiors  ;  for  che  same 
baseness  of  mind  will  lead  him  to  act  the  part  of  a  buily  to 
those  who  cannot  resist,  and  of  a  coward  to  those  who 
can.  But  though  servants  and  other  dependants  may  not 
have  it  in  their  power  to  retort,  in  the  same  style,  the  inju- 
rious usage  they  received  from  their  superiors,  they  are 
sure  to  be  even  with  them  by  the  contempt  they  themselves 
have  for  them,  and  the  character  they  spread  abroad  of 
them  through  the  world.  Upon  the  whole,  the  proper  be- 
haviour to  inferiors  is,  to  treat  them  with  generosity  and 
humanity  ;  but  by  no  means  with  familiarity  on  one  hand, 
or  insolence  on  the  other. 

And  if  a  fiery  temper  and  passionate  behaviour  are 
improper  to  inferiors,  they  are  more  so  among  equals,  for 
this  obvious  reason,  That  the  only  effect  of  a  choieric  be- 
haviour  on  your  equals,  is  exposing  you  to  the  ridicule  of 
these  who  have  no  dependence  upon  you,  and  have  neither 
hopes  nor  fears  from  you. 

There  is  indeed  no  greater  happiness  than  an  even  natural 
temper,  neither  liable  to  be  extremely  eager  and  sanguine, 
nor  stoically  indifferent  and  insensible  ;  neither  apt  to  be 
worked  up  to  a  tempest  with  every  trifle,  nor  yet  buried 
in  a  continual  lethargic  stupidity ;  neither  delighting  in  be- 
ing always  engaged  in  scenes  of  mirth  and  frolic,  nor  to  be 
""Tapped  in  the  impenetrable  gloom  of  a  fixed  melancholy 


SS  OF  PRUDENCL. 

And  after  all,  what  is  there  in  life  that  may  be  justly 
reckoned  of  sufficient  importance  to  move  a  person  to  a 
violent  passion  ?  What  good  grounds  can  there  be  lor 
great  expectations,  for  gloomy  apprehensions,  for  immo- 
derate triumph,  or  for  deep  dejection,  in  such  a  state  as  the 
present,  in  which  we  are  sure  of  meeting  with  innumerable 
disappointments,  even  in  the  greatest  success  of  our  affairs, 
and  in  which  we  know  that  our  afflictions  and  our  plea- 
sures  must  both  be  soon  over?  True  wisdom  will  direct 
us  to  study  moderation  with  respect  to  all  worldly  things  ; 
to  indulge  mirth  but  seldom,  excessive  grief  never  ;  but  to 
keep  up  constantly  an  even  cheerfulness  of  temper. 

If  it  should  happen  through  inadvertency,  passion,  or 
human  frailty,  that  you  expose  yourself  to  be  taken  to 
task  by  any  one,  do  not  so  much  labour  to  justify  the  ac- 
tion, for  that  is  doubling  the  fault,  as  your  intention,  which 
might  be  harmless.  Besides,  the  action  appears  manifest 
to  every  one;  so  that  people  will  judge  for  themselves, 
and  not  take  your  notion  of  it.  But  your  intention,  being 
known  only  to  yourself,  they  will  more  readily  allow  you 
to  be  the  most  proper  person  to  explain  it.  Above  all, 
it  is  base  and  unjust  to  palliate  your  own  fault,  by  laying 
the  blame  upon  others. 

Suppose  you  should  fairly  own  you  was  in  the  wrong. 
It  will  be  only  confessing  yourself  a  human  creature.  And 
is  that  so  mortifying !  If,  on  the  contrary,  you  should  stand 
it  out,  people  will  think  you  twice  in  the  wrong — in  com- 
mitting a  folly,  and  in  persisting  in  it.  Whereas,  if  you 
frankly  own  your  mistake,  they  will  allow  your  candour  as 
an  apology  for  half  the  fault. 

It  is  generally  pride  and  passion  that  engage  people  in 
quarrels  and  law-suits.  It  is  the  very  character  of  a  good 
man,  that  he  will,  upon  occasion,  recede  from  the  utmost 
rigor  of  what  he  might,  in  justice,  demand.  If  this  cha- 
racter were  a  common  one,  there  would  be  few  law-suits; 
which,  whoever  loves,  I  heartily  wish  him,  for  his  instruc- 
tion, the  full  enjoyment  of  all  its  peculiar  delights,  as  at- 
tendance, expence,  waste  of  time,  fear,  and  wrangling, 
writh  the  hatred  of  all  who  know  his  character,  and  the  di- 
minution of  his  fortune,  by  every  suit  he  engages  in. 

If  you  have  reason  to  believe  that  your  enemy  has  quit- 
ted his  hatred  to  you.  and  his  ill  designs  against  you,  do 


OF  PRUDENCE,  39 

not  insist  upon  his  making  you  a  formal  speech,  acknow- 
ledging his  fault  and  asking  pardon ;  but  forgive  him  frank- 
ly, without  putting  him  to  the  pain  of  doing  what  may  be 
more  disagreeable  to  him  than  you  can  imagine  :  For 
men's  natures  are  very  different.  If  you  already  know  that 
he  is  favourably  disposed  to  you,  you  cannot  know  it  bet- 
ter by  his  telling  you  so  in  a  formal  manner.  At  the  same 
time  it  is  not  necessary  that  you  trust  yourself  any  more  in 
the  hands  of  one  who  has  endeavoured  to  betray  and  ruin 
you.  Christian  forbearance  and  forgiveness  are  no  way 
inconsistent  with  prudence. 

There  is  no  circumstance  in  life  too  trivial  to  be  wholly 
unworthy  of  the  regard  of  a  person  who  would  be  general- 
ly agreeable,  on  which  a  man's  usefulness  in  society  de- 
pends much  more  than  many  people  are  aware  of.  It  is 
great  pity  that  many  persons,  eminently  valuable  for  learn- 
ing and  piety,  do  not  study  the  decorum  of  dress  and  be- 
haviour more  than  they  do.  There  is  incomparably  great- 
er good  to  be  gained  by  humouring  mankind  in  a  few  of 
their  trifling  customs,  and  thereby  wining  their  good  will, 
than  by  startling  or  disgusting  them  by  a  singularity  of 
behaviour  in  matters  of  no  consequence.  In  dress,  I  would 
advise  to  keep  the  middle  between  foppery  and  shabbiness ; 
neither  being  the  first  nor  the  last  in  a  fashion.  Every 
thing,  which  shows,  what  is  commonly  called,  a  taste  in 
dress,  is  a  proof  of  a  vain  and  silly  turn  of  mind,  and  never 
fails  to  prejudice  the  judicious  against  the  wearer.  A 
discreet  and  well-behaved  person  will  never  fail  to  meet 
with  due  respect  from  all  the  discerning  part  of  society, 
(and  the  good  opinion  of  the  rest  is  not  worth  desiring) 
though  his  dress  be  ever  so  plain,  so  it  be  decent. 


SECTION  V. 

Miscellaneous  Thoughts  011  Prudence  in  Conversation, 

AS  order  or  method  are  of  very  little  consequence  in 
treating  of  such  subjects,  I  will  add  here  a  set  of  miscella- 
neous thoughts  upon  the  art  of  conversation,  couched  in 
a  few  words,  from  which,  with  what  has  been  already  ob- 
served, the  young  reader  may  furnish  himself  with  a  com- 
petent knowledge  of  what  is  to  be  studied,  and  what  to  be 


40  OF  PRUDENCE. 

avoided  in  conversation.  If  the  reader  should  find  thf. 
same  thought  twice,  it  is  hoped  his  candour  will  overlook 
a  fault,  not  easy  to  be  avoided  in  putting  together  such  a 
variety  of  unconnected  matter.  There  are  few  of  the  fol- 
lowing sentences  that  will  not  furnish  a  good  deal  of 
thought,  or  that  are  to  be  understood  to  their  full  extent 
without  some  consideration. 

He  who  knows  the  world  will  not  be  too  bashful.  He 
who  knows  himself  will  not  be  impudent. 

Do  not  endeavour  to  shine  in  all  companies.  Leave 
room  for  your  hearers  to  imagine  something  within  you  be- 
yond all  you  have  said.  And  remember,  the  more  you 
are  praised,  the  more  you  will  be  envied. 

If  you  would  add  a  lustre  to  all  your  accomplishments, 
Study  a  modest  behaviour.  To  excel  in  any  thing  valu- 
able is  great;  but  to  be  above  conceit,  on  account  of  one's 
accomplishments,  is  greater.  Consider,  if  you  have  rich 
natural  gifts,  you  owe  them  to  the  Divine  bounty.  If  you 
have  improved  your  understanding,  and  studied  virtue, 
you  have  only  done  your  duty.  And  thus  there  seems 
little  ground  left  for  vanity. 

You  need  not  tell  all  the  truth,  unless  to  those  who  have 
a  right  to  know  it  all.     But  let  all  you  tell  be  truth. 

Insult  not  another  for  his  want  of  a  talent  you  possess : 
He  may  have  others  which  you  want. 

Praise  your  friends,  and  let  your  friends  praise  you. 

If  you  treat  your  inferiors  with  familiarity,  expect  the 
same  from  them. 

If  you  give  a  jest,  take  one. 

Let  all  your  jokes  be  truly  jokes.  Jesting  sometimes 
ends  in  sad  earnest. 

If  a  favour  is  asked  of  you,  grant  it  if  you  can.  If  not, 
refuse  it  in  such  a  manner  as  that  one  denial  may  be  suffi- 
cient. 

Wit  without  humanity  degenerates  into  bitterness. 
Learning  without  prudence  into  pedantry. 

In  the  midst  of  mirth,  reflect  that  many  of  your  fellow 
creatures  round  the  world  are  expiring  ;  and  that  your  turn 
will  come  shortly.  So  will  you  keep  your  life  uniform 
and  free  from  excess. 

Love  your  fellow  creature,  though  vicious.  Hate  vice 
in  the  friend  vou  love  the  most. 


OF  PRUDENCE.  41 

Whether  is  the  laugher  or  the  morose,  the  most  dis- 
agreeable companion  ? 

Reproof  is  a  medicine  like  mercury  or  opium  ;  if  it  be 
improperly  administered,  it  will  do  harm  instead  of  good. 

Nothing  is  more  unmannerly  than  to  reflect  on  any  man's 
profession,  sect,  or  natural  infirmity.  He  who  stirs  up 
against  himself  another's  self-love,  provokes  the  strongest 
passion  in  human  nature. 

Be  careful  of  your  word,  even  in  keeping  the  most  tri- 
fling appointment.  But  do  not  blame  another  for  a  failure 
of  that  kind,  till  you  have  heard  his  excuse. 

Never  offer  advice,  but  where  there  is  some  probability 
of  its  being  followed. 

If  a  great  person  has  omitted  rewarding  your  services, 
do  not  talk  of  it.  Perhaps  he  may  not  yet  have  had  an  op- 
portunity. For  they  have  always  on  hand  expectants  in- 
numerable ;  and  the  clamorous  are  too  generally  gratified 
before  the  deserving.  Besides,  it  is  the  way  to  draw  his 
displeasure  upon  you,  which  can  do  you  no  good,  but 
make  bad  worse.  If  the  services  you  did,  were  voluntary, 
you  ought  not  to  expect  any  return,  because  you  made  a 
present  of  them  unasked.  And  a  free  gift  is  not  to  be 
turned  into  a  loan,  to  draw  the  person  you  have  served  in- 
to debt.  If  you  have  served  a  great  person  merely  with 
a  view  to  self-interest,  perhaps  he  is  aware  of  that,  and  re- 
wards you  accordingly.  Nor  can  you  justly  complain  : 
He  owes  you  nothing ;  it  was  not  him  you  meant  to  serve. 

Fools  pretend  to  foretel  what  will  be  the  issue  of  things, 
and  are  laughed  at  for  their  awkward  conjectures.  Wise 
men,  being  aware  of  the  uncertainty  of  human  affairs, 
and  having  observed  how  small  a  matter  often  pro- 
duces a  great  change,  are  modest  in  their  conjectures. 

He  who  talks  too  fast,  outruns  his  hearers  thoughts. 
He  who  speaks  too  slow,  gives  his  hearer  pain  by  hin- 
dering his  thoughts,  as  a  rider  who  frets  his  horse  by  reinr 
ing  him  too  much. 

Never  think  to  entertain  people  with  what  lies  out  of 
their  way,  be  it  ever  so  curious  in  its  kind.  Who  would 
think  of  regaling  a  circle  of  ladies  with  the  beauties  of 
Homer's  Greek,  or  a  company  of  country  squires  with 
Sir  Isaac  Newton's  discoveries  ? 

Never  fish  for  praise  :  It  is  not  worth  the  bait, 

F 


42  OF  PRUDENCE. 

Do  well ;  but  do  not  boast  of  it.  For  that  will  lessen 
the  commendation  you  might  otherwise  have  deserved. 

Pie  who  is  guilty  of  flattery,  declares  himself  to  be  sunk 
from  every  noble  and  manly  sentiment,  and  shows,  that  he 
thinks  the  person  he  presumes  upon,  void  of  modesty  and 
discernment.  Though  flattery  is  so  common  in  courts, 
it  is  the  very  insolence  of  rudeness. 

To  offer  advice  to  an  angry  man,  is  like  blowing  against 
a  tempest. 

Too  much  preciseness  and  solemnity  in  pronouncing 
what  one  says  in  common  conversation,  as  if  one  was 
preaching,  is  generally  taken  for  an  indication  of  self- 
conceit. 

Make  your  company  a  rarity,  and  people  will  value  it. 
Men  despise  what  they  can  easily  have. 

Value  truth,  however  you  come  by  it.  Who  would 
not  pick  up  a  jewel  that  lay  on  a  dunghill  ? 

The  beauty  of  behaviour  consists  in  the  manner,  more 
than  the  matter  of  youi  discourse. 

If  your  superior  treats  you  with  familiarity,  it  will  not 
therefore  become  you  to  treat  him  in  the  same  manner. 
Men  of  many  words  are  generally  men  of  many  puffs. 
A  good  way  to  avoid  impertinent  and  pumping  inqui- 
ries, is  by  answering  with  another  question.  An  evasion 
may  also  serve  the  purpose.  But  a  lie  is  inexcusable  on 
any  occasion,  especially,  when  used  to  conceal  the  truth, 
from  one  who  has  no  authority  to  demand  it. 

To  reprove  with  success,  the  following  circumstances 
are  necessary,  viz.  mildness,  secrecy,  intimacy,  and  the 
esteem  of  the  person  you  would  reprove. 

If  you  be  nettled  with  severe  raillery,  take  care  never 
to  show  that  you  are  stung,  unless  you  choose  to  provoke 
more. 

The  way  to  avoid  being  made  a  butt,  is  not  to  set  up 
for  an  archer. 

To  set  up  for  a  general  critic,  is  bullying  mankind. 
Reflect  upon  the  different  appearances  things  make  to 
you  from  what  they  did  some  years  ago  ;  and  do  not  ima- 
gine that  your  opinion  will  never  alter,  because  you  are 
positive  at  present.     Let  the  remembrance  of  your  past 
hanges  of  sentiment  make  you  more  flexible^ 
If  ever  you  was  in  a  passion,  did  you  not  rind  reason  af- 


OF  PRUDENCE.  I 

terwards  to  be  sorry  for  it?  And  will  you  again  allow 
yourself  to  be  guilty  of  a  weakness,  which  will  certainly 
"be  in  the  same  manner  followed  by  repentance,  besides 
being  attended  with  pain  ? 

Never  argue  with  any  but  men  of  sense  and  temper. 

It  is  ill  manners  to  trouble  people  with  talking  too 
much  either  of  yourself,  or  your  affairs.  If  you  are  full 
of  yourself,  consider,  that  you,  and  your  affairs,  are  not  so 
interesting  to  other  people  as  to  you. 

Keep  silence,  sometimes,  upon  subjects  which  you  are 
known  to  be  a  judge  of.  So  your  silence,'  where  you  are 
ignorant,  will  not  discover  you. 

Some  ladies  will  forgive  silliness;  but  none  ill  manners. 
And  there  are  but  few  capable  of  judging  of  your  learning 
or  genius  ;  but  all  of  your  behaviour. 

Do  not  judge  by  a  view  of  one  person  or  thing. 

Think  like  the  wise,  but  talk  like  ordinary  people. 
Never  go  out  of  the  common  road  but  for  somewhat. 

Do  not  dispute  against  facts  well  established,  merely 
because  there  is  somewhat  unaccountable  in  them.  That 
the  world  should  be  created  of  nothing,  is  to  us  incon- 
ceivable ;  but  not  therefore  to  be  doubted. 

There  is  no  occasion  to  trample  upon  the  meanest  rep- 
tile, nor  to  sneak  to  the  greatest  prince.  Insolence  and 
baseness  are  equally  unmanly. 

As  you  are  going  to  a  party  of  mirth,  think  of  the  ha- 
zard you  run  of  misbehaving.  While  you  are  engaged, 
do  not  wholly  forget  yourself.  And  after  all  is  over,  re- 
flect how  you  have  behaved.  If  well,  be  thankful :  It  is 
more  than  you  could  have  promised.  If  otherwise,  be 
more  careful  for  the  future. 

Do  not  sit  dumb  in  company.  It  will  be  ascribed  either 
to  pride,  cunning,  or  stupidity.  Give  your  opinion  mo- 
destly, but  freely  ;  hear  that  of  others  with  candor  ;  and 
ever  endeavour  to  find  out,  and  to  communicate  truth. 

If  you  have  seen  a  man  misbehave  once,  do  not  from 
thence  conclude  him  a  fool.  If  you  find  he  has  been  in  a 
mistake  in  one  particular,  do  not  at  once  conclude  him 
void  of  understanding.  By  that  way  of  judging,  you  can 
entertain  a  favourable  opinion  of  no  man  upon  earth,  nor 
even  of  yourself. 

In  mixed  company,  be  readier  to  hear  than  to  speak, 


44  OF  PRUDENCE. 

and  put  people  upon  talking  of  what  is  in  their  own  way. 
For  then  you  will  both  oblige  them,  and  be  most  likely  to 
improve  by  their  conversation. 

Humanity  will  direct  to  be  particularly  cautious  of  treat- 
ing, with  the  least  appearance  of  neglect,  those  who  have 
lately  met  with  misfortunes,  and  are  sunk  in  life.  Such 
persons  are  apt  to  think  themselves  slighted,  when  no  such 
thing  is  intended.  Their  minds,  being  already  sore,  feel 
the  least  rub  very  severely.  And  who  would  be  so  cruel 
as  to  add  affliction  to  the  afflicted? 

Too  much  company  is  worse  than  none. 

To  smother  the  generosity  of  those,  who  have  obliged 
you,  is  imprudent,  as  well  as  ungrateful.    The  mention  of 
kindnesses  received  may  excite  those  who  hear  it  to  de- 
serve your  good  word,  by  imitating  the  example  which 
they  see  does  others  so  much  honour. 

Learning  is  like  bank-notes.  Prudence  and  good  be- 
ha  iour  are  like  silver,  useful  upon  all  occasions. 

If  you  have  been  once  in  company  with  an  idle  person, 
it  is  enough.  You  need  never  go  again.  You  have  heard 
ail  he  knows.  And  he  has  had  no  opportunity  of  learning 
any  thing  new.    For  idle  people  make  no  improvements. 

Deep  learning  will  make  you  acceptable  to  the  learned ; 
but  it  is  only  an  obliging  and  easy  behaviour,  and  enter- 
taining conversation,  that  will  make  you  agreeable  to  all 
companies. 

Men  repent  speaking  ten  times,  for  once  that  they  re- 
pent keeping  silence. 

It  is  an  advantage  to  have  concealed  one's  opinion.  For 
by  that  means  you  may  change  your  judgment  of  things 
(which  every  wise  man  finds  reason  to  do)  and  not  be  ac- 
cused of  fickleness. 

There  is  hardly  any  bodily  blemish,  which  a  winning 
behaviour  will  not  conceal,  or  make  tolerable  ;  and  there 
is  no  external  grace,  which  ill-nature  or  affectation  will  not 
deform. 

If  you  mean  to  make  your  side  of  the  argument  appear 
plausible,  do  not  prejudice  the  people  against  what  you 
think  truth,  by  your  passionate  manner  of  defending  it. 

There  is  an  affected  humility  more  unsufferable  than 
downright  pride,  as  hypocrisy  is  more  abominable  than 


OF  PRUDENCE.  45 

libertinism.  Take  care  that  your  virtues  be  genuine  and 
unsophisticated. 

If  you  put  on  a  proud  carriage,  people  will  want  to  know 
what  there  is  in  you  to  be  proud  of.  It  is  ten  to  one  whether 
they  value  your  accomplishments  at  the  same  rate  as  you. 
And  the  higher  you  aspire,  they  will  be  the  more  desirous 
to  mortify  you. 

Nothing  is  more  nauseous  than  apparent  self-sufficiency. 
For  it  shows  the  company  two  things,  which  are  extremely 
disagreeable;  that  you  have  a  high  opinion  of  yourself ; 
and,  ihat  you  have  comparatively  a  mean  opinion  of  them. 

It  is  the  concurrence  of  passions,  that  produces  a  storm. 
Let  an  angry  man  alone,  and  he  will  cool  of  himself. 

It  is  but  seldom,  that  very  remarkable  occurrences  fall 
out  in  life.  The  evenness  of  your  temper  will  be  in  most 
danger  of  being  troubled  by  trifles  Which  take  you  by 
surprise. 

It  is  as  obliging  in  company,  especially  of  superiors,  to 
listen  attentively,  as  to  talk  entertainingly. 

Do  not  think  of  knocking  out  another  person's  brains, 
because  he  differs  in  opinion  from  you.  It  will  be  as 
rational  to  knock  yourself  on  the  head,  because  you  differ 
from  yourself  ten  years  ago. 

If  you  want  to  gain  any  man's  good  opinion,  take  par- 
ticular care  how  you  behave,  the  first  time  you  are  in  com- 
pany with  him.  The  light  you  appear  in  at  first,  to  one 
who  is  neither  inclinable  to  think  well  nor  ill  of  you,  will 
strongly  prejudice  him  either  for  or  against  you 

Good  humour  is  the  only  shield  to  keep  off  the  darts  of 
the  satirical  railer.  If  you  have  a  quiver  well  stored,  and 
are  sure  of  hitting  him  between  the  joints  of  the  harness, 
do  not  spare  him.  But  you  had  better  not  bend  your  bow 
than  miss  your  aim. 

The  modest  man  is  seldom  the  object  of  envy. 

In  the  company  of  ladies,  do  not  labour  to  establish 
learned  points  by  long-winded  arguments.  They  do  not 
care  to  take  much  pains  about  finding  out  truth. 

Talkativeness,  in  some  men,  proceeds  from  what  is  ex- 
tremely amiable,  I  mean,  an  open,  communicative  temper. 
Nor  is  it  an  universal  rule,  that  whoever  talks  much,  must 
say  a  great  deal  not  worth  hearing.  I  have  known  men 
who  talked  freely,  because  they  had  a  great  deal  to  say, 


4G  OF  PRUDENCE. 

and  delighted  in  communicating  for  their  own  advantage, 
and  that  of  the  company  ;  and  I  have  known  others,  who 
commonly  sat  dumb,  because  they  could  find  nothing  to 
say.  In  England,  we  blame  every  one  who  talks  freely, 
let  his  conversation  be  ever  so  entertaining  and  improving. 
In  France,  they  look  upon  every  man  as  a  gloomy  mortal, 
whose  tongue  does  not  make  an  uninterrupted  noise. 
Both  these  judgments  are  unjust. 

If  you  talk  sentences,  do  not  at  the  same  time  give  your- 
self a  magisterial  air  in  doing  it.  An  easy  conversation  is 
the  only  agreeable  one,  especially  in  mixed  company. 

Be  sure  of  the  fact,  before  you  lose  time  in  searching 
for  a  cause. 

If  you  have  a  friend  that  will  reprove  your  faults  and 
foibles,  consider  you  enjoy  a  blessing,  which  the  king  upon 
the  throne  cannot  have. 

Ii  disputes  upon  moral  or  scientific  points,  ever  let 
your  aim  be  to  come  at  truth,  not  to  conquer  your  op- 
ponent. So  you  never  shall  be  at  a  loss,  in  losing  the  ar- 
gument, and  gaining  a  new  discovery. 

What  may  be  very  entertaining  in  company  with  igno- 
rant people,  may  be  tiresome  to  those  who  know  more  of 
the  matter. 

There  is  no  method  more  likely  to  cure  passion  and 
rashness,  than  the  frequent  and  attentive  consideration  of 
one's  own  weaknesses.  This  will  work  into  the  mind  an 
habitual  sense  of  the  need  one  has  of  being  pardoned,  and 
will  bring  down  the  swelling  pride  and  obstinacy  of  heart, 
which  are  the  cause  of  hasty  passion. 

If  you  happen  into  company  where  the  talk  runs  into 
party,  obscenity,  scandal,  folly,  or  vice  of  any  kind,  you 
had  better  pass  for  morose  or  unsocial,  among  people 
whose  good  opinion  is  not  worth  having,  than  shock  your 
own  conscience,  by  joining  in  conversation  which  you 
must  disapprove  of. 

If  you  would  have  a  right  to  account  of  things  from 
illiterate  people,  let  them  tell  their  story  in  their  own  way. 
If  you  put  them  upon  talking  according  to  logical  rules, 
vou  will  confound  them. 

I  was  much  pleased  with  the  saying  of  a  gentleman,  who 
was  engaged  in  a  friendly  argument  with  another  upon  a 
point  in  morals,  "  You  and  I  (says  he  to  his  antagonist) 


0F  PRUDENCE.  47 

seem  as  far  as  I  hitherto  understand,  to  differ  consider- 
ably  in  our  opinions.  Let  us,  if  you  please,  try  wherein 
we  can  agree."  The  scheme  in  most  disputes  is  to  try 
who  shall  conquer,  or  confound  the  other.  It  is  therefore 
no  wonder  that  so  little  light  is  struck  out  in  conversation, 
where  a  candid  inquiry  after  truth  is  often  the  least  thino- 
thought  of. 

If  a  man  complains  to  you  of  his  wife,  a  woman  of  her 
husband,  a  parent  of  a  child,  or  a  child  of  a  parent,  be  very 
cautious  how  you  meddle  between  such  near  relations,  to 
blame  the  behaviour  of  one  to  the  other.  You  will  only 
have  the  hatred  of  both  parties,  and  do  no  good  with  either. 
But  this  does  not  hinder  your  giving  both  parties,  or 
either,  your  best  advice  in  a  prudent  manner. 

Be  prudently  secret.  But  do  not  affect  to  make  a  secret 
of  what  all  the  world  may  know  ;  nor  give  yourself  airs  of 
being  as  close  as  a  conspirator.  You  will  better  disap- 
point idle  curiosity  by  seeming  to  have  nothing  to  conceal. 

Never  blame  a  friend,  without  joining  some  commenda- 
tion to  make  reproof  go  down. 

It  is  by  giving  a  loose  to  folly,  in  conversation  and  ac- 
tion, that  people  expose  themselves  to  contempt  and  ridi- 
cule. The  modest  man  may  deprive  himself  of  some  part 
of  the  applause  of  some  sort  of  people  in  conversation,  by 
not  shining  altogether  so  much  as  he  might  have  done. 
Or  he  may  deprive  himself  of  some  lesser  advantages  in 
life  by  his  reluctancy  in  putting  himself  forward.  But  it 
is  only  the  rash  and  impetuous  talker,  or  actor,  that  effect- 
ually exposes  himself  in  company,  or  ruins  himself  in  life. 
It  is  therefore  easy  to  determine  which  is  the  safest  side  to 
err  on. 

It  is  a  base  temper  in  mankind,  that  thev  will  not  take 
the  smallest  slight  atthe  hand  of  those  who  have  done  them 
the  greatest  kindness. 

If  you  fall  into  the  greatest  companv,  in  a  natural  and 
unforced  way,  look  upon  yourself  as  one  of  them ;  and  do 
not  sneak,  nor  suffer  any  one  to  treat  vou  unworthv,  with- 
out just  showing,  that  you  know  behaviour.  But  if  you 
see  them  disposed  to  be  rude,  over- bearing,  or  purse- 
proud,  it  will  be  more  decent  and  less  troublesome  to  re- 
tire, than  to  wrangle  with  them. 

If  at  any  time  you  chance,  in  conversation,  to  get  on  a 


43  OF  PRUDENXE. 

side  of  an  argument  which  you  find  not  to  be  tenable,  or 
any  other  way  over  shoot  yourself,  turn  off  the  subject  in 
as  easy  and  good  humoured  a  way  as  you  can.  It  you  pro- 
ceed "still,  and  endeavour,  right  or  wrong,  to  make  your 
first  point  good,  you  will  only  entangle  yourself  the  morer 
and  in  the  end  expose  yourself. 

Never  over-praise  any  absent  person  :  especially  ladies, 
in  company  of  ladies.  It  is  the  way  to  bring  envy  and 
hatred  upon  those  whom  you  wish  well  to. 

To  try,  whether  your  conversation  is  likely  to  be  accept- 
able to  people  of  sense,  imagine  what  you  say  writ  down, 
or  printed,  and  consider  how  it  would  read  ;  whether  it 
would  appear  natural,  improving,  and  entertaining;  or 
affected,  unmeaning,  or  mischievous. 

It  is  better  in  conversation,  with  positive  men  to  turn 
off  the  subject  in  dispute  with  some  merry  conceit,  than 
keep  up  the  contention  to  the  disturbance  of  the  company. 

Do  not  give  your  advice  upon  any  extraordinary  emer- 
o-ency,  nor  your  opinion  upon  any  difficult  point,  especi- 
ally in  company  of  eminent  persons,  without  first  taking 
time  to  deliberate.  If  you  say  nothing,  it  may  not  be 
known  whether  your  silence  was  owing  to  ignorance  of 
the  subject,  or  to  modesty.  If  you  give  a  rash  and  crude 
opinion,  you  are  effectually  and  irrecoverably  exposed.  ^ 

If  you  fill  your  fancy,  while  you  are  in  company,  with 
suspicions  of  their  thinking  meanly  of  you  :  if  you  puff 
yourself  up  with  imaginations  of  appearing  to  them  a  very 
witty  or  profound  person :  if  you  discompose  yourself  with 
fears  of  misbehaving  before  them  ;  or  any  way  put  your- 
self out  of  yourself ;  you  will  not  appear  in  your  natural 
colour ;  but  in  that  of  an  affected,  personated  character, 
which  is  always  disagreeable. 

It  may  be  useful  to  study,  at  leisure,  a  variety  of  pro- 
per phrases  for  such  occasions  as  are  most  frequent  in  life, 
as  civilities  to  superiors,  expressions  of  kindness  to  in- 
feriors ;  congratulations,  condolence,  expressions  of  grati- 
tude, acknowledgement  of  faults,  asking  or  denying  ot 
favours,  &c.  I  prescribe  no  particular  phrases,  because, 
the  language  of  conversation  continually  fluctuating,  they 
must  soon  become  obsolete.  The  best  method  of  acquir- 
ing the  accomplishment  of  a  graceful  and  easy  manner  oi 
expression  for  the  common  occasions  of  life,  is  attention, 


OF  PRUDENCE.  49 

■^nd  imitation  of  well-bred  people.  Nothing  makes  a 
man  appear  more  contemptible  than  barrenness,  pedantry, 
x>r  impropriety  of  expression. 

If  you  would  be  employed  in  serious  business,  do  not 
-set  up  for  a  buffoon. 

Flattery  is  a  compound  of  falsehood,  selfishness,  ser- 
vility, and  ill  manners.  Any  one  of  these  qualities  is 
enough  to  make  a  character  thoroughly  odious.  Who 
then  would  be  the  person,  or  have  any  concern  with  him, 
whose  mind  is  deformed  by  four  such  vices  ? 

If  you  must  speak  upon  a  difficult  point,  be  the  last 
speaker  if  you  can. 

You  will  not  be  agreeable  to  company,  if  you  strive  to 
bring  in,  or  keep  up  a  subject  unsuitable  to  their  capaci- 
ties or  humour. 

You  will  never  convince  a  man  of  ordinary  sense,  by 
overbearing  his  understanding.  If  you  dispute  with  him 
in  such  a  manner,  as  to  show  a  due  deference  for  his  judg- 
ment, your  complaisance  may  win  him,  though  your  saucy 
arguments  could  not. 

Avoid  disputes  altogether,  if  possible ;  especially  in 
mixed  companies,  and  with  ladies.  You  will  hardly  con- 
vince any  one,  and  may  disoblige  or  startle  them,  and  get 
yourself  the  character  of  a  conceited  pragmatical  person. 
\Y hereas,  that  of  an  agreeable  companion,  which  you  may 
have  without  giving  yourself  any  great  air  of  learning  or 
tlepth,  may  be  more  advantageous  to  you  in  life,  and  will 
make  you  welcome  in  all  companies. 

The  frequent  use  of  the  name  of  God,  or  the  devil : 
allusions  to  passages  of  Scripture  ;  mocking  at  any  thing 
serious  and  devout ;  oaths,  vulgar  bye- words,  cant  phra- 
ses, affected  hard  words,  when  familiar  terms  will  do  as 
well ;  scraps  of  Latin,  Greek  or  French ;  quotations 
from  plays,  spoke  in  a  theatrical  manner ;  all  these  much 
used  in  conversation  render  a  person  very  contemptible  to 
grave  and  wise  men. 

If  you  send  people  away  from  your  company  well-pleas- 
ed with  themselves,  you  need  not  fear  but  they  will  be 
well  enough  pleased  with  you,  whether  they  have  received 
any  instruction  from  you  or  not.  Most  people  had  rathe* 
ibe  pleased  than  instructed. 


/' 


50  OF  PRUDENCE. 

Do  not  tell  unlikely  or  silly  stories,  if  you  know  them 
to  be  true. 

There  is  no  greater  rudeness  to  company,  than  enter- 
taining them  with  scolding  your  servants. 

Avoid  little  oddities  in  behaviour.  But  do  not  despise 
a  man.of  worth,  for  his  being  somewhat  awkward,  or  less 
agreeable,  in  his  manner. 

I  hardiy  know  any  company  more  disagreeable  than 
that  of  those,  who  are  ever  straining  to  hook  in  some 
quirk  of  wit  or  drollery,  whatever  be  the  subject  of  con- 
versation. Reflect  in  yourself,  after  you  have  passed 
some  hours  in  such  company  ;  and  observe  whether  it 
leaves  any  thing  in  your  mind  but  emptiness,  levity,  or 
disgust.  Again  observe,  after  you  have  passed  some  time 
in  the  conversation  of  men  of  wisdom  and  learning,  if  you 
do  not  find  your  mind  filled  with  judicious  reflections, 
and  worthy  resolutions.  If  you  do  not,  it  is  because  you 
have  not  a  mind  capable  of  them. 

If  you  can  express  yourself  to  be  perfectly  understood 
in  ten  words,  never  use  a  dozen.  Go  not  about  to  prove, 
by  a  long  series  of  reasoning,  what  all  the  world  is  ready 
to  own. 

If  any  one  takes  the  trouble  of  finding  fault  with  you, 
you  ought  in  reason  to  suppose  he  has  some  regard  for 
you,  else  he  would  not  run  the  hazard  of  disobliging  you, 
and  drawing  upon  himself  your  hatred. 

Do  not  ruffle  or  provoke  any  man :  Why  should  any 
one  be  the  worse  for  coming  into  company  with  you  ?  Be 
not  yourself  provoked :  Why  should  you  give  any  man 
the  advantage  over  you  ? 

To  say  that  one  has  opinions  very  different  from  those 
commonly  received,  is  saying  that  he  either  loves  singu- 
larity, or  that  he  thinks  for  himself.  Which  of  the  two  is 
the  case,  can  only  be  found  by  examining  the  grounds  of 
his  opinions. 

Do  not  appear  to  the  public  too  sure,  or  too  eager  upon 
any  project.  If  it  should  miscarry,  which  it  is  a  chance 
but  it  does,  you  will  be  laughed  at.  The  surest  way  to 
prevent  which,  is  not  to  tell  your  designs  or  prospects 
in  life. 

If  you  give  yourself  a  loose  in  mixed  company,  you 
may  almost  depend  on  being  pulled  to  pieces  as  soon  as 


OF  PRUDENCE.  51 

your  back  is  turned,  however  they  may  seem  entertained 
with  your  conversation. 

For  common  conversation,  men  of  ordinary  abilities 
will  upon  occasions  do  well  enough.  And  you  may  al- 
ways pick  something  out  of  any  man's  discourse,  by 
which  you  may  profit.  For  an  intimate  friend  to  improve 
by,  you  must  search  half  a  county  over,  and  be  glad  if  you 
can  find  him  at  last. 

Do  not  give  your  time  to  every  superficial  acquaint- 
ance  ;  it  is  bestowing  what  is  to  you  of  inestimable  worth, 
upon  one,  who  is  not  likely  to  be  better  for  it. 

If  a  person  has  behaved  to  you  in  an  unaccountable 
manner,  do  not  at  once  conclude  him  a  bad  man,  unless 
you  find  his  character  given  up  by  all  who  know  him ; 
nor  then,  unless  the  facts  alleged  against  him  be  undoubt- 
edly proved,  and  wholly  inexcusable.  But  this  is  not  ad- 
vising you  to  trust  a  person,  whose  character  you  have  any 
reason  to  suspect.  Nothing  can  be  more  absurd  than  the 
common  way  of  fixing  people's  characters.  Such  a  one 
has  disobliged  me  ;  therefore  he  is  a  villain.  Such 
another  has  done  me  a  kindness ;  therefore  he  is  a  saint. 

Never  contend  about  small  matters  with  superiors,  nor 
with  inferiors.  If  you  get  the  better  of  the  first;  you  pro- 
voke their  formidable  resentment :  if  you  engage  with  the 
latter  you  debase  yourself. 

If  you  act  a  part  truly  great,  you  may  expect  that  men 
of  mean  spirits,  who  can  not  reach  you,  will  endeavour, 
by  detraction,  to  pull  you  down  to  their  level.  But  pos- 
terity will  do  you  justice ;  for  the  envy  raised  against 
you,  will  die  with  you. 

Superficial  people  are  more  agreeable  the  first  time  you 
are  in  their  company,  than  ever  afterwards.  Men  of  judg- 
ment improve  every  succeeding  conversation :  beware 
therefore  of  judging  by  one  interview. 

You  will  not  anger  a  man  so  much  by  showing  him  that 
you  hate  him,  as  by  expressing  a  contempt  of  him. 

Most  young  women  had  rather  have  any  of  their  good 
qualities  slighted,  than  their  beauty.  Yet  that  is  the  most 
inconsiderable  accomplishment  of  a  woman  of  real  merit. 

You  will  be  always  reckoned  by  the  world  nearly  of  the 
same  character  with  those  whose  company  you  keep. 

You  will  please  so  much  the  less,  if  you  go  into  com- 


52  OF  PRUDENCE 

pany  determined  to  shine.    Let  your  conversation  appear 
to  rise  out  of  thoughts  suggested  by  the  occasion,   not 
?  trained,  or  premeditated  :  nature  always  pleases:  affecta 
tion  is  always  odious. 


PART  II. 

OF  PRUDENCE  I.V  ACTION 


SECTION  I. 

Of  following  Advice.     Of  Submission  to  Superiors". 

PRUDENCE  in  action  is  the  conducting  of  one's 
affairs  in  such  a  manner  as  is  necessary  and  proper,  all  cir 
cumstances  duly  considered  and  balanced  ;  and  avoiding 
whatever  may  be  likely  to  produce  inconvenience  with  res- 
pect to  secular  concerns.  Imprudence  is  seen  as  much 
in  neglecting  what  ought  to  be  done,  and  at  the  proper 
time  for  doing  it,  as  in  taking  rash  and  inconsiderate  steps, 

There  is  not  a  more  promising  sign  in  a  young  person, 
than  a  readiness  to  hear  the  advice  of  those  whose  age  and 
experience  qualify  them  for  judging  maturely.  The 
knowledge  of  the  world,  and  of  the  arts  of  life,  can  only  be 
attained  by  experience  and  action.  Therefore  if  a  young 
person,  who,  through  obstinacy,  rejects  the  advice  of  ex- 
perienced people,  succeeds  in  his  designs,  it  is  owing  to 
some  strange  interposition  of  Providence,  or  concurrence 
of  circumstances.  For  such  a  oneT  entering  into  life, 
wholly  unacquainted  with  the  difficulties  and  dangers  of  it, 
and  resolutely  beat  against  advice,  runs  the  same  hazard 
as  a  person,  wholly  ignorant  of  sailing,  who  should,  against 
the  judgment  of  experienced  pilots,  undertake  to  steer  a 
ship  through  the  most  dangerous  sea,  in  a  tempest. 

It  seems  at  first  view,  a  very  odd  turn  in  human  nature, 
that  young  people  are  generally  much  more  conceited  of 
their  own  judgments,  than  those  who  are  come  to  matu- 
rity. One  would  wonder  how  they  should  miss  reflecting, 
that  persons  more  advanced  in  age  than  themselves,  have 
of  course  the  advantage  of  so  many  years  experience  be- 
yond themselves  ;  and  that,  if  all  other  things  were  equal. 


OF  PRUDENCE.  53 

the  single  circumstance  of  having  seen  more  of  the  world, 
must  necessarily  enable  them  to  judge  better  of  it. 

Life  is  a  journey ;  and  they  only  who  have  travelled  a 
considerable  way  in  it,  are  fit  to  direct  those  who  are  set- 
ting out. 

Let  me  therefore  advise  my  young  readers,  to  pay  the 
utmost  deference  to  the  advices  or  commands  of  those, 
who  are  their  superiors  in  age  and  experience.  Old  peo- 
ple, it  must  be  owned,  will  sometimes  obtrude  their  ad- 
vice in  a  manner  not  very  engaging.  Their  infirmities, 
the  usual  attendants  of  age,  together  with  their  concern 
for  the  wrong  steps  they  see  their  young  relations  and  ac- 
quaintance taking,  will  sometimes  occasion  their  treating 
them  with  what  may  be  taken  for  ill-nature  ;  whereas,  it 
may  be  in  reality  their  love  for  the  persons  of  their  young 
friends,  and  their  zeal  for  their  interests  which  warm  them, 
Do  not  therefore  attend  to  the  manner  of  the  advice  ;  but 
only  to  the  matter  of  it.  It  would  be  of  very  little  conse- 
quence to  you,  if  you  was  going  towards  a  precipice  in  a 
dark  night,  whether  you  were  warned  of  your  danger  by  a 
rude  clown,  or  by  a  polite  gentleman,  so  you  escaped  it. 
In  the  same  manner,  if  a  remonstrance  is  made  upon  any 
part  of  one's  conduct,  in  the  roughest  manner ;  the  only 
thing  to  be  considered,  is,  whether  we  can  profit  by  it, 
and  the  rudeness  of  the  person,  who  made  it,  should  go 
for  nothing  ;  as  one  would  swallow  a  medicine,  not  for  its 
gratefulness  to  the  taste,  but  for  its  effect  on  the  consti- 
tution. 

As  to  the  submission  a  young  man  owes  to  his  supe- 
riors, as  parents,  masters,  &c.  if  it  were  not  a  duty,  pru- 
dence alone  would  lead  him  to  yield  it  readily  and  cheer 
fully  in  all  cases  that  are  lawful.  For  it  is  to  be  consider- 
ed, that  the  consequences  of  refusing  are  incomparably 
worse  than  those  of  submission  ;  the  world  being  always 
ready  to  lay  the  blame  upon  the  young  person,  in  case  of 
a  rupture  between  them,  and  not  upon  the  old  ;  and  no- 
thing being  more  to  the  disadvantage  of  a  young  person's 
character,  than  the  reproach  of  an  obstinate  or  unsettled 
turn  of  mind.  It  would  indeed  be  impossible  to  carry  on 
the  affairs  of  the  world,  if  children,  apprentices,  sen-ants, 
and  other  dependants,  were  to  spend  time  in  disputing  the 
commands  of  their  superiors  ;  it  being  in   many  cases 


54  OF  PRUDENCE. 

hard  to  give  an  account  of  the  fitness  or  unfitness  of  things 
prescribed,  and  in  many  altogether  improper.  Nor  is  it 
less  commendable  nor  less  graceful  to  obey  cheerfulh', 
than  to  direct  prudently.  No  person  is  likely  to  com- 
mand  well,  who  has  never  learnt  to  obey. 

It  will  be  very  imprudent  in  a  young  person  to  take  any 
material  step  in  life,  without  consulting  the  aged,  and  ex- 
perienced especially,  if  possible,  such  as  have  had  experi- 
ence in  his  way  of  life.  In  one's  choice  of  a  friend,  for 
such  occasions,  smoothness  of  speech  or  complaisance  is 
not  to  be  regarded.  On  the  contrary,  the  most  valuable 
friend  is  he,  who  joins  to  a  thorough  knowledge  of  men 
and  things,  matured  by  age  and  experience,  an  open, 
blunt,  and  honest  behaviour ;  who  will  rather  magnify, 
than  palliate,  the  faults  and  imprudences  of  his  friend,  to 
his  face,  however  he  may  defend  him  behind  his  back  ; 
and  will  not,  on  account  of  the  trifling  hazard  of  disoblig- 
ing, suffer  him  to  take  a  wrong  step,  without  making  an 
open  and  honest  remonstrance  upon  it. 

There  is  one  particular  consideration,  that  makes  asking 
the  advice  of  one's  friends  prudent  and  judicious.  It  is — 
That,  if  it  should  so  happen,  as  it  often  must,  in  spite  of 
one's  utmost  precaution,  that  his  affairs  should  take  a 
wrong  turn,  he  will  not  only  have  the  less  reason  to  reflect 
upon  himself;  but  the  mouths  of  others  will  generally  be 
stopped  :  as  he  may  for  the  most  part  have  his  advisers  at 
least,  from  mere  self-conceit,  to  star'1  *!p  for  the  prudence 
of  his  conduct,  which  was  the  consequence  of  their 
advice. 

You  will  often  find,  that  in  the  very  proposing  to  your 
friend  your  difficulty,  you  yourself  shall  hit  upon  the  means 
of  getting  over  it,  before  he  has  time  to  give  you  his  opinion 
upon  it.  And  you  will  likewise  find,  that  in  advising 
with  a  friend,  a  word  dropt  by  him  shall  furnish  you  a 
valuable  hint  for  your  conduct,  which  you  shall  wonder 
how  you  yourself  came  to  miss. 

It  must  be  owned,  however  that  there  are  cases  in  which 
no  man  can  judge  so  well  what  steps  should  be  taken  as 
the  person  concerned ;  because  he  himself  may  know 
several  important  particulars  in  his  own  affairs,  which 
would  make  it  highly  improper  for  him  to  follow  the  di- 
rections another  person  might  give,  who  was  not  aware 


OF  PRUDENCE.  55 

of  those  circumstances.  Whoever,  therefore,  gives  up 
his  judgment,  and  acts  contrary  to  his  own  better  know- 
ledge, in  compliance  with  the  advice  of  his  acquaintance,  or 
with  common  custom,  is  guilty  of  a  weakness,  the  conse- 
quences of  which  may  prove  fatal. 


SECTION  II. 

Of  Method,  Application,  and  proper  Times  for  Business. 
Of  trusting  to  others. 

THERE  is  nothing  that  contributes  more  to  the  ready 
and  advantageous  dispatch,  as  well  as  to  the  safety  and 
success  of  business,  than  method  and  regularity.  Let  a 
man  set  down  in  his  memorandum-book,  every  morning 
the  several  articles  of  business  he  has  to  do  through  the 
day ;  and  beginning  with  the  first  person  he  is  to  call  up- 
on, or  the  first  place  he  is  to  go  to,  finish  that  affair  (if  it 
is  to  be  done  at  all)  before  he  begins  another ;  and  so  on 
to  the  rest.  A  man  of  business,  who  observes  this  me- 
thod, will  hardly  ever  find  himself  hurried  or  disconcerted 
by  forgetfulness  :  And  he  who  sets  down  all  his  transac- 
tions in  writing,  and  keeps  his  accounts,  and  the  whole 
state  of  his  affairs,  in  a  distinct  and  accurate  order,  so  that 
he  can  at  any  time,  by  looking  into  his  books,  presently 
see  in  what  condition  his  business  is,  and  whether  he  ib  in 
a  thriving  or  declining  way  ;  such  a  one,  I  say,  deserves 
properly  the  character  of  a  man  of  business,  and  has  a  fair 
prospect  of  carrying  his  schemes  to  an  happy  issue.  But 
such  exactness  as  this  will  by  no  means  suit  the  man  of 
pleasure,  who  has  other  things  in  his  head. 

The  way  to  transact  a  great  deal  of  business  in  a  little 
time,  and  with  great  certainty,  is  to  observe  these  rules. 
To  speak  to  the  point.  To  use  no  more  words  than  are 
necessary  fully  to  express  your  meaning ;  and  to  study 
beforehand,  and  set  down  in  writing  afterwards,  a  sketch 
of  the  transaction. 

There  is  one  piece  of  prudence,  above  all  others,  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  those  who  expect  to  raise  themselves 
in  the  world  by  an  employment  of  any  kind;  I  mean  a 
constant  and  unwearied  application  to  the  main  pursuit. 
By  means  of  indefatigable  diligence,  joined  with  frugali- 


55  OF  PRUDENCE. 

ty,  we  see  many  people  in  the  lowest  and  most  laborious 
stations  in  life,  raise  themselves  to  such  circumstances,  as 
will  allow  them,  in  their  old  age,  that  ease  from  labour  of 
body  and  anxiety  of  mind,  which  is  neccssarv  to  make 
the  decline  of  life  supportable.  I  have  heard  of  a  trades- 
man who,  at  his  first  setting  out,  opened  and  shut  his  shop 
every  day,  for  several  weeks  together,  without  selling 
goods  to  the  value  of  one  penny  ;  who,  by  the  force  of  ap- 
plication for  a  course  of  years,  raised  at  last  a  handsome 
fortune  :  And  I  have  known  many  who  have  had  a  varie- 
ty of  opportunities  for  settling  themselves  comfortably  in 
the  world,  and  who  for  want  of  steadiness  to  carry  any  one 
scheme  to  perfection,  have  sunk  from  one  degree  of  wretch- 
edness to  another  for  many  years  together,  without  all 
hopes  of  ever  getting  above  distress  and  pinching  want. 

There  is  hardly  an  employment  in  life  so  mean  that  will 
not  afford  a  subsistence,  if  constantly  applied  to:  And  it 
is  only  by  dint  of  indefatigable  diligence,  that  a  fortune 
is  to  be  acquired  in  business.  An  estate  got  by  what  is 
commonly  called  a  lucky  hit,  is  a  rare  instance ;  and  he 
who  expects  to  have  his  fortune  made  in  that  way,  is  much 
about  as  rational  as  he  who  should  neglect  all  probable 
means  of  living,  on  the  hopes  that  he  should  some  time 
or  other  find  a  treasure.  The  misfortune  of  indolence  is, 
That  there  is  no  such  thins:  as  continuing:  in  the  same  con- 
ditiori  without  an  income  of  one  kind  or  other.  If  a  man 
does  not  bestir  himself,  poverty  must  overtake  him  at  last. 
If  he  continues  to  give  out  for  the  necessary  charges  of 
life,  and  will  not  take  the  pains  to  gain  somewhat  to  supply 
his  outgivings,  his  funds  must  at  length  come  to  an  end, 
and  misery  come  upon  him  at  a  period  of  life  when  he  is 
ieafet  able  to  grapple  with  it,  I  mean  in  old  age,  if  not  be- 
fore. 

The  character  of  a  sluggard  must,  I  think,  be  owned 
to  be  one  of  the  most  contemptible.  In  proportion  to  a 
person's  activity  for  his  own  good  and  that  of  his  fellow- 
creatures,  he  is  to  be  reckoned  a  more  or  less  valuable 
member  of  society  :  And  if  all  the  idle  people  in  a  nation 
were  to  die  in  one  year,  the  loss  would  be  inconsiderable, 
in  comparison  of  what  the  community  must  suffer  by  be- 
ing deprived  of  a  very  few  of  the  active  and  industrious. 
Evert  moment  of  time  ought  to  be  put  to  its  proper  use^ 


OF  PRUDENCE.  57 

either  in  business,  in  improving  the  mind,  in  the  innocent 
and  necessary  relaxations  and  entertainments  of  life,  or  in 
the  care  of  our  souls. 

And  as  we  ought  to  be  much  more  frugal  of  our  time 
than  our  money,  the  one  being  infinitely  more  valuable 
than  the  other,  so  ought  we  to  be  particularly  watchful 
of  opportunities.  There  are  times  and  seasons  proper 
for  every  purpose  of  life :  and  a  very  material  part  of 
prudence  is  to  judge  rightly  of  them,  and  make  the  best 
of  them.  If  you  have,  for  example  a  favour  to  ask  of  a 
phlegmatic  gloomy  man,  take  him,  if  you  can,  over  his 
bottle.  If  you  want  to  deal  with  a  covetous  man,  by  no 
means  propose  your  business  to  him  immediately  after  he 
has  been  paying  away  money,  but  rather  after  he  has  been 
receiving.  If  you  know  a  person,  for  whose  interest  you 
have  occasion,  is  unhappy  in  his  family,  put  yourself  in 
his  way  abroad,  rather  than  wait  on  him  at  his  own  house. 
A  statesman  will  noi  be  likely  to  give  you  a  favourable 
audience  immediately  after  meeting  with  a  disappoint- 
ment in  any  of  his  schemes.  There  are  even  many  peo- 
ple who  are  always  sour  and  ill-humoured  from  their 
rising  till  they  have  dined.  And  as  in  persons,  so  in  things, 
opportunity  is  of  the  utmost  consequence.  The  tho- 
rough knowledge  of  the  probable  rise  and  fall  of  merchan- 
dize, the  favourable  seasons  of  importing  and  exporting, 
a  quick  eye  to  see,  and,  a  nimble  hand  to  seize  advantages 
as  they  turn  up ;  these  are  the  talents  which  raise  men 
from  low  to  affluent  circumstances. 

It  would  be  greatly  for  the  advantage  of  men  of  busi- 
ness, if  they  made  it  a  rule,  never  to  trust  any  thing  of  con- 
sequence to  another,  which  they  can  by  any  means  do  them- 
selves. Let  another  have  my  interest  ever  so  much  at  heart, 
I  am  sure  I  have  it  more  myself:  And  no  substitute  one  can 
employ,  can  understand  one's  business  so  well  as  the  prin- 
cipal, which  gives  him  great  advantage  for  doing  things  in 
the  best  way,  as  he  can  change  his  measures  according  to 
circumstances,  which  another  has  not  authority  to  do. 
As  for  dependants  of  all  kinds,  it  is  to  be  remembered, 
always,  that  their  master's  interest  possesses,  at  most,  only 
the  second  place  in  their  minds.  Self-love  will  ever  be 
the  ruling  principle,  and  no  fidelity  whatever  will  prevent 
a  person  from  bestowing  a  good  deal  of  thought  upon  his 

n 


jb  OF  PRUDENCE. 

own  concerns,  which  must  break  in,  less  or  more,  upon  hi* 
diligence  in  consulting  the  interest  of  his  constituent 
How  men  of  business  can  venture,  as  they  do,  to  trust 
the  great  concerns  some  of  them  have,  for  one  half  of 
every  week  in  the  year,  which  is  half  the  year,  to  servants, 
and  they  expect  others  to  take  care  of  their  business,  when 
they  will  not  be  at  the  trouble  of  minding  it  themselves, 
is  to  me  inconceivable.  Nor  does  the  detection,  from 
time  to  time,  of  the  frauds  of  such  people,  seem  at  all  to 
deter  our  men  of  business  from  trusting  to  them. 

There  is  indeed  nothing  more  difficult  than  to  know 
the  characters  of  those  we  confide  in.  How  should  wr 
imagine  we  can  know  those  of  others,  when  we  are  so  un- 
certain about  our  own  ?  What  man  can  say  of  himself, 
I  never  shall  be  capable  of  such  a  vice  or  weakness  ?  And 
if  not  of  himself,  much  less  of  another.  Who  would  then 
needlessly  trust  to  another,  when  he  can  hardly  be  sure  oi 
himself? 


SECTION  IIL 

Of  Frugality  and  Economy.   Of  Projects.   Of  Diversions. 

NEXT  to  diligence  and  assiduity  in  business,  frugality 
and  economy  are  the  most  necessary  for  him  who  would 
raise  himself  in  the  world  by  his  own  industry.  Simple 
nature  is  contented  with  a  little,  and  there  is  hardly  any  em- 
ployment which,  if  pursued  with  prudence  and  attention, 
will  not  yield  an  income  sufficient  for  the  necessary  uses  oi" 
life:  as,  on  the  other  hand,  no  revenue  is  so  great  as  to  be 
proof  against  extravagance.  Witness  the  emperor  Caligula, 
who  in  a  few  years  spent  the  riches  of  the  world,  at  least  of 
the  Roman  world  ;  I  mean  the  immense  treasures  his  avari- 
cious predecessor  Tiberius  had  been  amassing  for  twenty- 
two  years,  besides  the  current  revenues  of  the  empire  ; 
and  found  himself  reduced  to  straits,  from  the  most  exor- 
bitant riches.  Every  person's  experience  confirms  this 
truth,  That  those  pleasures  of  life  which  cost  the  most  are 
the  least  satisfactory  and  contrariwise.  The  noise  of  balls, 
>,  and  masquerades,  is  tiresome;  the  parade  of  gilt 
lies,  of  powdered  footmen,  and  of  state-visits,  is  ful- 
some ;  while  the  conversation  of  a  wise  and  virtuous  friend. 


OF  PRUDENCE.  59 

the  endearments  ef  a  faithful  wife  and  innocent  children, 
oharity  to  the  indigent,  which  none  but  a  good  economist 
can  bestow,  the  pursuit  of  useful  and  ornamental  know- 
ledge, the  study  of  virtue  and  religion,  these  are  entertain- 
ments ever  new  and  ever  delightful.  And  if  a  wise  man  may 
thus  be  satisfied  from  himself;  if  the  noblest  pleasures  and 
truest  enjoyments  are  only  to  be  had  in  our  own  hearts 
and  in  our  own  houses,  how  great  is  the  folly  of  mankind, 
who  flv  from  the  genuine,  the  rational,  the  cheap,  and  easy 
attainable  enjoyments  of  life,  in  a  mad  pursuit  after  the 
imaginary,  expensive,  and  tiresome  vanities  of  show  and 
ostentation !  Were  the  enjoyments  which  pomp  and  gran 
deur  yield  (supposing  them  unimbittered  with  reflections 
on  their  fatal  consequences,  which  will  ever  be  crowding 
into  the  mind)  infinitely  more  exquisite  than  those  of  vir- 
tue and  sobriety,  which  is  the  very  contrary  of  the  truth, 
a  prudent  man  would  take  care,  in  consideration  of  the 
shortness  of  life,  how  he  indulged  them  to  die  neglect  of 
the  serious  business  of  life,  or  to  the  ruin  of  his  fortune 
None  but  a  madman  would  lavish  away  his  whole  patri- 
mony in  one  season,  with  the  prospect  of  poverty  and  mi- 
sery for  die  remainder  of  his  days:  For  he  would  consi- 
der, that  a  life  languished  out  in  wretchedness,  or  in  de- 
pendence, would  immensely  overbalance  the  pleasure  of 
reflecting,  that  he  had  spent  one  year  in  hearing  the  finest 
music,  in  seeing  the  politest  company,  in  eating  the  rarest 
food,  and  in  drinking  the  richest  wines  the  world  could  af- 
ford ;  Nay,  he  would  foresee  that  the  reflection  upon  past 
pleasures  and  gaieties  would  only  render  his  misery  so 
much  the  more  intolerable.  There  is  not,  indeed,  a  more 
deplorable  case  than  that  of  a  person,  who,  by  his  own  fol- 
ly, has  reduced  himself  to  beggary  :  For,  besides  the  other 
distresses  he  must  struggle  with,  he  has  the  cruel  stings  of 
his  own  reflections  to  torture  him,  and  is  deprived  of  the 
poor  consolation  of  the  sympathy  and  compassion  of  his 
acquaintance. 

Every  person  who  happens  by  any  means  whatever, 
though  wholly  out  of  his  own  power  either  to  foresee  or 
prevent,  to  sink  in  the  world,  may  lay  his  account  with 
meeting  no  little  contempt  and  ill  usage  from  the  bulk  of 
his  acquaintance,  and  even  from  those  for  whom  he  has* 
m  his  prosperity  done  the  greatest  kindnesses.    But  when 


60  OF  PRUDENCL 

it  is  known  that  a  man's  misfortunes  arc  owing  to  his  own 
extravagance,  people  have  too  good  a  pretence  for  with- 
holding their  compassion  or  assistance,  and  for  treating 
him  with  neglect  and  contempt.  It  will  therefore  be  a 
young  person's  wisdom,  before  he  goes  too  far,  to  make 
such  reflections  as  these  ;  "  Shall  I  lavish  away  in  youth- 
ful pleasure  and  folly  the  patrimony  that  must  support 
me  my  whole  life  ?  Shall  I  indulge  myself  in  rioting  and 
drunkenness,  till  I  have  not  a  morsel  of  bread?  Shall  I 
revel  in  plays,  balls,  and  music-gardens,  till  I  bring  my- 
self to  a  goal  ?  Shall  I  waste  my  substance  in  regaling  a 
set  of  wretches,  who  will  turn  their  backs  upon  me  when- 
ever they  have  undone  me  ?  Shall  I  pass  my  youth  like  a 
lord,  and  be  a  beggar  in  my  old  age?" 

There  is  nothing  more  unaccountable  than  the  com- 
mon practice  in  our  times,  among  that  part  of  the  people 
who  ought  to  be  the  examples  of  frugality  as  well  as  of 
industry,  the  citizens  of  London;  I  mean  the  usual  way 
of  setting  out  in  life.  It  seems,  generally  speaking,  as  if 
our  traders  thought  themselves  in  duty  bound  to  go  to 
the  utmost  stretch  of  expense,  which  their  circumstances 
will  afford,  and  even  beyond,  the  very  first  year  of  their 
setting  up.  That  a  young  shop-keeper,  and  his  new  mar- 
ried  wife,  whose  joint  fortunes  would  not  make  up  five 
thousand  pounds,  should  begin  with  sitting  in  state  to  re- 
ceive company,  keeping  footmen,  carriages,  and  country- 
houses,  and  awkwardly  mimicking  the  extravagances  of  the 
other  end  of  the  town,  before  they  know  how  trade  may 
turn  out,  or  how  numerous  a  family  of  children  they  may 
have  to  provide  for  ;  what  can  be  more  preposterous  ?  As 
if  the  public  had  so  little  discernment,  as  to  conclude  that 
people's  circumstances  were  always  according  to  the 
jhow  they  made.  How  easy  is  it  for  any  man  to  increase 
his  expense,  if  he  finds  his  income  increase?  And  how 
hard  is  it  to  be  obliged,  after  setting  out  in  a  grand  man- 
ner, to  retrench,  and  lower  the  sails  :  It  is  not  indeed  to  be 
done  in  trade,  without  affecting  a  person's  credit,  which 
accordingly  obliges  many  traders  to  goon  in  the  exorbi- 
tant way  they  first  set  out  in,  to  their  own  ruin,  and  that  of 
others  who  have  been  engaged  with  them.  In  some 
countries,  insolvency,  where  a  good  account  of  the  causes 
which  brought  it  on  cannot  be  given,   is  punished  with 


OF  PRUDENCE.  61 

death.  If  the  law  of  England  were  as  severe,  what  the 
fate  of  many  of  the  bankrupt  citizens  of  London  must 
have  been,  every  one  may  judge. 

The  great  consumption  of  private  fortunes  is  owing 
chiefly  to  those  expenses  which  are  constant,  and  run  on, 
day  after  day,  the  whole  year  round.  People  do  not 
seem  to  attend  sufficiently  to  the  consequences  of  the 
expense  of  one  dish,  or  one  bottle  of  wine  more  than, 
enough  in  their  daily  economy.  Yet  the  saving  of  thre^ 
or  four  shillings  a-day,  will  amount  to  sixty  or  eighty 
pounds  in  a  year ;  which  sum,  saved  up  yearly  for  thirty 
years,  the  ordinary  time  a  man  carries  on  business,  would 
amount  to  near  five  thousand  pounds,  reckoning  interest ; 
and  still  more,  if  you  suppose  it  laid  out  in  an  advanta- 
geous trade. 

If  any  young  gentleman  of  fortune  imagines  the  large- 
ness of  his  income  sufficient  to  render  frugality  and  econo- 
my useless,  a  little  experience  will  show  him  to  his  cost, 
that  no  error  can  be  greater.  The  charge  of  maintaining 
a  number  of  servants,  who  are  to  be  supported  not  only  in 
necessaries,  but  in  all  the  waste  and  destruction  they  please 
to  make  ;  the  expense  of  coachmen,  footmen,  horses  and 
hounds,  a  town-house  and  country-seat,  is  enormous. 
But  if  to  these  there  be  added  the  charge  of  a  mistress, 
that  alone  will  surmount  all  the  rest ;  and  the  expense  of 
a  steward  will  exceed  all  the  others  put  together :  For,  as 
none  of  the  other  dependants  upon  a  great  man  have  it  in 
their  power  to  do  mare  than  run  away  with  a  little  of  his 
cash,  or  the  provisions  of  his  house  from  time  to  time, 
they  cannot  utterly  ruin  him  without  his  own  knowledge  : 
But  the  steward,  having  the  receiving  and  paying  of  all,  in 
his  own  hands,  may  very  easily,  in  a  short  time,  if  his  ac- 
counts are  not  looked  into,  appropriate  to  himself  the  bulk 
of  the  estate,  and  ruin  his  master  before  he  has  any  suspi- 
cion of  his  affairs  being  out  of  order. 

It  seems  to  me  very  unaccountable,  that  men  of  fortune 
§hould  think  it  necessary  to  go  to  the  utmost  stretch  of 
their  incomes,  and  generally  beyond  them ;  when  they 
must  find,  that  a  crowd  of  servants  and  dependants  is  but 
a  disturbance  to  happiness,  which  requires  peace  and  tran- 
quility, and  flies  from  noise  and  ostentation.  Is  it  neces- 
sary for  popularity  ?  By  no  means.     Half  the  money  laid 


OF  PRUDENCE. 

out  for  the  service  of  the  public,  or  in  judicious  charities, 
would  procure  a  gentleman  the  real  esteem  and  affection 
of  his  neighbours;  whereasj  the  greatest  expense  laid  out 
upon  those  bloodsuckers^  which  generally  feed  upon  the 
great;  does  but  expose  him  to  their  contempt,  who  laugh 
in  their  sleeve  to  find  they  can  so  grossly  gull  him  out  of 
his  money. 

The  employing  a  number  of  working  people  in  improv- 
ing barren  grounds,  in  laying  out  plantations,  in  raising- 
buildings  for  a  continual  increase  of  tenants  upon  a  thriv- 
ing estate,  with  the  acquisition  of  new  inhabitants,  the  en- 
couragement of  manufactures,  and  providing  for  the  poor  ; 
these  are  the  arts  that  will  gain  a  country  gentleman  more 
popularity,  than  keeping  open  house  the  whole  year  round. 

Let  me  advise  young  people  to  be  particularly  cautious 
of  new  schemes  or  projects.  There  is  not  one  of  a  hund- 
red that  ever  succeeds  at  all ;  nor  one  of  many  hundreds 
that  brings  their  inventors  any  thing  but  disappointment 
and  ruin.  The  reason  is  pretty  plain.  It  requires  a  great 
expense  to  set  any  new  scheme  on  foot.  The  bulk  of 
mankind  are  prejudiced  against  novelties,  and  conse- 
quently are  apt  to  oppose  them.  The  generality  of  peo- 
ple are  likewise  jealous  of  every  scheme  that  may  any 
way  affect  their  interest ;  and  many  from  pure  envy,  take 
a  pleasure  in  opposing  and  depreciating  every  new  pro- 
posal. The  contriver  himself  is  greatly  at  a  loss,  being 
i  ibliged  to  try  various  methods  to  bring  his  designs  to 
bear,  and  to  lay  out  a  certain  expense  for  an  uncertain 
profit.  So  that  we  observe,  accordingly,  whoever  pro- 
jects any  thing  new  in  science,  in  mechanics,  or  in  trade, 
seldom  does  more  than  open  the  way  for  others  to  profit 
by  his  ingenuity. 

What  shall  be  said  upon  the  subject  of  pleasures  and 
diversions  in  an  age,  in  which  all  ranks,  sexes,  and  ages, 
run  to  excess  in  this  respect?  And  yet  to  make  the 
amusements  of  life,  the  business  of  life,  is  absurd  in  any  ra- 
tional being  who  has  ever  heard  of  a  judgment  to  come, 
and  who  is  not  absolutely  certain  (wrhich  I  believe  hardly 
any  one  will  pretend)  that  he  never  shall  be  called  to  give 
an  account  of  the  use  he  has  made  of  his  time.  But  if 
there  be  any  absurdity  greater  than  another,  it  is,  that  a 
man  of  business  should  set  up  for  a  man  of  taste  and  plea^ 


OF  PRUDENCE.  65 

sures  :  Yet  \vc  see  the  public  diversions  of  this  great  city 
crowded  and  supported  chiefly  by  the  citizens.  We  see 
those  whose  business  is  in  town,  outvying  one  another  in 
the  elegancy  of  their  country-houses  ;  plays,  balls,  operas, 
music- gardens,  concerts,  resorted  to  by  the  lowest  me- 
chanics— the  consequences  of  which  extravagances  are 
bankruptcies  innumerable  : — not  to  mention  frauds,  rob- 
beries, forgeries,  and  so  forth.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to 
support  a  family  in  the  most  frugal  way ;  but  when  to 
the  ordinary  conveniences  of  life,  the  above  extravagances 
are  to  be  added,  there  is  no  end  of  it ;  and  the  covetous- 
ness  of  a  spendthrift  is  incomparably  more  mischievous 
than  that  of  a  miser.  The  latter  will,  at  worst,  only 
grind  the  face  of  the  poor,  and  take  the  advantage  of  all  that 
are  less  cunning  than  himself;  but  the  former  will  not 
stick  at  forgery,  robbery,  or  murder. 

At  the  same  time,  that  it  is  hardly  possible  to  say  too 
much  against  the  inordinate  pursuit  of  diversions,  which 
even  defeats  its  own  end,  becoming,  through  excess,  a 
burden  and  fatigue,  instead  of  a  relaxation  ;  after  all,  I  say, 
that  may  be  urged  against  this  reigning  folly  of  our  times, 
I  know  no  j  ust  reason  why  a  man  of  business  should  deny 
himself  the  moderate  use  of  such  innocent  amusements  as 
his  fortune  or  leisure  will  allow  ;  his  fortune,  in  a  consist- 
ency with  supporting  his  family,  and  contributing  to  the 
relief  of  the  indigent,  and  his  leisure,  in  a  consistency  with 
the  thorough  knowledge  of  the  state  of  his  own  affairs, 
and  doing  offices  of  kindness  to  those  about  him.  Some 
of  the  most  innocent  amusements  I  know,  are  reading,  viz. 
history,  lives,  geography,  and  natural  philosophy,  with  a 
very  little  choice  poetry  :  the  conversation  of  a  few  agree- 
able friends,  and  drawing,  where  there  is  a  genius  for  it. 
To  these  may  be  added,  riding  on  horseback  once  or  twice 
in  a  week,  where  it  can  be  done  conveniently. 

Music  is  never  safely  indulged,  where  there  is  too 
great  a  desire  to  excel  in  it ;  for  that  generally  draws  peo- 
ple into  an  expense  of  time  and  money,  above  what  the. 
accomplishment,  carried  to  the  greatest  length,  is  worth. 

As  for  cards,  and  ail  other  ways  of  gaming,  they  are  the 
ruin  of  rational  conversation,  the  bane  of  society,  and  the 
mrsc  of  the  nation. 


64  OF  PRUDENCE. 


SECTION  IV. 

Of  Over -trading.    Of  Integrity,  prudentially  considered. 
Of  Credulity.     Of  prudent   Conduct  in  case  of  a  re- 
verse of  Fortune.      Of  the  different    Characters  of 
Men,  and  how  to  apply' them. 

THERE  is  one  error  in  the  conduct  of  the  industrious 
part  of  mankind,  whose  effects  prove  as  fatal  to  their  for- 
tunes as  those  of  some  of  the  first  vices,  though  it  is  gene- 
rally the  most  active  and  the  ablest  men  who  run  into  it :  I 
mean  over- trading.  Profusion  itself  is  not  more  danger- 
ous ;  nor  does  idleness  bring  more  people  to  ruin,  than 
launching  out  into  trade  beyond  their  abilities.  The  exu  - 
berant  credit  given  in  trade,  though  it  is  sometimes  of  ad- 
vantage, especially  to  people  whose  capitals  are  small,  is 
yet  perhaps,  upon  the  whole,  more  detrimental  that  a  gene- 
ral diffidence  would  be.  For  a  young  trader  to  take  the 
utmost  credit  he  can  have,  is  only  running  the  utmost  risk 
he  can  run.  And  if  he  would  consider,  that  as  others 
trust  him  to  a  great  extent,  he  must  lay  his  account  with 
trusting  those  he  deals  with  to  a  great  value  likewise  ;  and 
that  consequently,  he  must  run  a  great  many  hazards  of 
his  own  payments  falling  short,  and  that  the  failure  or  dis- 
appointment of  two  or  three  considerable  sums  at  the 
same  time,  may  disable  him  from  making  his  payments 
regularly,  which  is  utter  ruin  to  his  credit ;  if,  I  say,  a 
young  trader  were  to  consider  in  this  manner  the  conse- 
quence of  things,  he  would  not  think  the  offer  of  large 
credit  so  much  a  favour,  as  a  snare  ;  especially  if  he  like- 
wise reflected,  that  whoever  offers  him  large  credit,  and 
for  a  long  time,  without  sufficient  security,  will  think  he 
has  a  right  to  charge  a  very  considerable  profit  upon  the 
commodities  he  sells  him  ;  and  consequently  the  advan- 
tage he  can  gain  by  them,  must  be  too  inconsiderable  to 
make  up  for  the  risk  he  must  run.  The  trader  who  gives 
and  takes  large  ere  lit,  especially  if  he  has  large  concerns 
ill  foreign  parts,  and  is  not  possessed  of  a  very  considera- 
ble fortune,  must  be  liable  to  such  hazards,  and  such  ter- 
ror and  anxiety,  that  I  should  think  a  very  moderate  pro- 
fit arising  from  trading  safely,  and  within  a  reasonable 
compass,  much  the  most  eligible.     I  know  but  one  sort 


OF  PRUDENCE.  65 

of  trade  in  which  large  credit  might  be  safely  taken,  viz. 
where  one  could  quickly  make  sales  of  large  quantities  of 
goods  for  ready  money  ;  and  in  such  a  trade,  to  take  credit 
when  one  might  buy  to  greater  advantage  for  ready  money, 
would  be  very  absurd. 

There  is  no  subject  which  men  of  business  ought  to 
have  oftener  in  their  view,  than  the  precariousness  of  hu- 
man affairs.  In  order  to  the  success  of  any  scheme,  it  is 
necessary  that  every  material  circumstance  take  place  ;  as, 
in  order  to  the  right  going  of  a  watch  or  clock,  it  is  ne- 
cessary that  every  one  of  the  wheels  be  in  order.  To  suc- 
ceed in  trade,  it  is  necessary  that  a  man  be  possessed  of  a 
large  capital ;  that  he  be  well  qualified ;  (which  alone  com- 
prehends a  great  many  particulars,)  that  his  integrity  be 
unsuspected  ;  that  he  have  no  enemies  to  blast  his  credit; 
that  foreign  and  home  markets  keep  nearly  according  to  his 
expectations  ;  that  those  he  deals  with,  and  credits  to  any 
great  extent,  be  both  as  honest  and  sufficient  as  he  believes 
them  to  be ;  that  his  funds  never  fail  him  when  he  de- 
pends on  them  ;  and  that,  in  short,  every  thing  turn  out 
to  his  expectation.  But  surely  it  must  require  a  very 
great  degree  of  that  sanguine  temper,  so  common  in  youth, 
to  make  a  man  persuade  himself  that  there  is  no  manner 
of  hazard  of  his  finding  himself  deceived,  or  disappointed 
in  some  one,  among  so  many  particulars.  Yet  we  com- 
monly see  instances  of  bankruptcies,  where  a  trader  shall 
have  gone  to  the  extent  of  perhaps  ten  times  the  value  of 
his  capital ;  and  by  means  of  large  credit,  and  raising 
money  with  one  hand,  to  pay  with  the  other,  has  support- 
ed himself  upon  the  effects  of  other  people,  till  at  length, 
some  one  or  other  of  his  last  shifts  failing  him,  down  he 
sinks  with  his  own  weight,  and  brings  hundreds  to  ruin 
with  him. 

Upon  the  head  of  over  trading,  and  hastening  to  be 
rich-,  I  cannot  help  making  a  remark  on  the  conduct  of 
many  traders  of  large  capitals,  who,  for  the  sake  of  adding 
to  a  heap,  already  too  great,  monopolize  the  market,  or 
trade  for  a  profit  which  they  know  dealers  of  smaller  for- 
tunes cannot  possibly  live  by.  If  such  men  really  think, 
that  their  raising  themselves  thus  on  the  ruin  of  others  is 
justifiable,  and  that  riches  got  in  this  manner  are  fairly 
gained,  they  must  either  have  neglected  properlv  inform  - 

I 


U6  OF  PRUDENCE. 

ing  their  consciences,  or  must  have  stifled  their  remon- 
strances. 

Whoever  Mould  thrive  in  trade,  let  him  take  care,  above 
all  things,  to  keep  up  to  strict  integrity.  If  a  trader  is 
once  known  to  be  guilty  of  taking  exorbitant  profits  ;  or 
other  unfair  advantages  of  those  he  deals  with,  there  is  an 
end  of  his  character  :  And  unless  a  man  can  get  a  fortune 
by  one  transaction,  it  is  madness  in  prudentials  to  hazard 
his  whole  reputation  at  once  :  And  even  if  he  could,  giv- 
ing his  soul  for  an  estate,  would  be  but  a  losing  trade. 
But  of  this,  more  hereafter. 

When  it  happens  that  one  is  solicited  to  lend  money,  or 
interpose  his  credit  for  any  person  in  difficulties,  the  right 
way  is,  to  make  sure  either  that  the  sum  furnished  or  en- 
gaged for,  be  such  as  he  can  lay  his  account  with  losing, 
without  anv  material  detriment  to  his  affairs,  or  that  he 
have  an  unexceptionable  security  in  his  hands.  The  con- 
sequences of  lending  money,  or  being  security  for  others, 
generally  prove  the  loss  of  both  money  and  friend  :  For 
people  are  commonly  at  the  last  pinch  when  they  come  to 
borrowing,  and  it  is  not  an  inconsiderable  sum  that  will 
keep  them  from  sinking  :  And  the  demand  of  payment 
seldom  fails  to  occasion  disgust  between  friends.  The 
best  method  I  know  for  supporting  a  man  of  merit  in  dis- 
tress, is,  for  a  set  of  three  or  four,  or  more,  according  to 
the  occasion,  to  contribute  conjunctly,  so  that  the  loss  be- 
ing divided,  if  it  should  prove  a  loss,  may  not  prove  fatal 
to  any  one  concerned.  And  if  in  this,  or  any  other  pru- 
dent way,  one  can  do  a  service,  in  a  time  of  need,  to  a  per- 
son of  merit,  one  ought  always  to  rejoice  in  the  opportu- 
nity ;  and  he  will  be  highly  to  blame  who  neglects  it. 
But  as  there  is  infinite  craft  and  knavery  among  mankind, 
let  me  advise  young  people,  to  beware  of  the  common 
weakness  that  period  of  life  is  generally  subject  to,  I  mean 
credulity.  The  most  openhearted  are  the  most  liable  to 
be  imposed  upon  by  the  designing ;  though  one  would 
think  a  man's  knowing  his  own  intentions  to  be  sincere 
and  honest,  should  be  no  reason  for  Jus  concluding  every 
one  lie  meets  to  be  of  the  same  character. 

There  is  no  certain  method  of  avoiding  the  snares  of 
the  crafty  :  But  it  would  be  a  good  custom  if  men  of  bu- 
Mjiess  made  it  their  usual  practice,   in  all  their  dealings, 


OF  PRUDENCE.  G7 

where  it  is  practicable,  to  draw  up  in  writing,  a  minute  or 
memorial  of  every  transaction,  subscribed  by  both,  with  a 
clalise  signifying,  that,  in  case  of  any  difference,  the\ 
should  both  agree  to  submit  the  matter  to  arbitration  :  For 
it  is  very  common  for  a  designing  person,  in  making  an 
agreement,  to  take  no  notice  of  the  reasonable  and  natural 
consequences  of  an  advantageous  concession,  but  to  put 
off  the  person  he  wants  to  take  an  advantage  of,  with  a  ge- 
neral phrase,  as,  We  shan't  fall  out ;  I  assure  you  I  mean 
you  well,  I  won't  wrong  you  :  and  such  like  :  And  when 
accounts  come  to  be  settled,  and  the  party  who  thinks  him- 
self aggrieved  declares,  that  he  made  the  bargain  altogether 
with  the  prospect  of  having  such  and  such  advantages  al- 
lowed him  ;  No,  says  the  sharper,  /  never  told  you  I 
would:  Though  it  is  the  very  same  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses of  deceiving,  as  if  he  had  expressly  consented  to  it ; 
yet  the  unhappy  sufferer  must  sit  down  with  the  loss,  be- 
cause he  can  only  say  he  was  deceived  by  insinuations,  and 
not  by  a  direct  fraud  within  the  reach  of  the  law.  One  can- 
not therefore  be  too  exact  in  making  contracts  ;  nor  is 
there  indeed,  any  safety  in  dealing  with  deceitful  and  ava- 
ricious people,  though  one  thinks  he  uses  the  utmost 
precaution. 

It  will,  I  believe,  generally  be  found  of  good  use,  in 
order  to  understand  the  real  sentiments  of  mankind,  and 
to  discover  when  they  have  any  indirect  design,  to  observe 
carefully  their  looks.  There  is  something  in  knavery 
that  Will  hardly  bear  the  inspection  of  a  piercing  eye  : 
And  you  will  generally  observe,  in  a  sharper,  an  unsteady 
and  confused  look.  And  if  a  person  is  persuaded  of  the 
uncommon  sagacity  of  one  he  is  to  appear  before,  he  will 
hardly  be  able  to  muster  up  enough  of  impudence  and  ar 
tifice  to  bear  him  through  without  faltering.  It  will  there- 
fore be  a  good  way  to  try  one  whom  you  suspect  of  a  de- 
sign upon  you,  by  fixing  your  eyes  upon  his,  and  by 
bringing  up  a  supposition  of  your  having  to  do  with  one 
whose  integrity  you  suspected,  and  what  you  would  do  in 
such  a  case.  If  the  person  you  are  talking  with,  be  really 
what  you  suspect,  he  will  hardly  be  capable  of  keeping  his 
countenance. 

One  ought  always  to  suspect  men  remarkably  avari- 
cious.   Great  love  of  monev  is  a  great  enemv  to  honestv. 


68  OF  PRUDENCE. 

The  aged  are  more  dangerous  than  young  people.  They 
are  more  desirous  of  gain,  and  know  more  indirect  ways  of 
coming  at  it,  and  of  outwiting  others,  than  the  young. 
It  will  be  your  wisdom  to  be  cautious  of  all  such  ;  and  of 
those,  who  in  an  affected  manner  bring  in  religion  on  all 
occasions,  in  season  and  out  of  season  ;  of  all  smooth  and 
fawning  people  ;  of  those  who  are  very  talkative,  and 
who,  in  dealing  with  you,  endeavour  to  draw  off  your  at- 
tention from  the  point  in  hand,  by  a  number  of  incoherent 
reflections  introduced  at  random,  and  of  the  extremely 
suspicious  ;  for  it  is  generally  owing  to  a  consciousness  of 
a  designing  temper,  that  people  are  apt  to  suspect  others. 
If  ever  you  hear  a  person  boast  of  his  having  got  any  exor- 
bitant advantage  in  his  dealings,  you  may,  generally  speak- 
ing, conclude  such  a  one  not  too  rigorously  honest.  It  is 
seldom  that  a  great  advantage  is  to  be  got,  but  there  must 
be  great  disadvantage  on  the  other  side.  And  whoever 
triumphs  in  his  having  got  by  another's  loss,  you  may 
easily  judge  of  his  character. 

There  is  a  sort  of  people  in  the  world,  of  whom  the 
young  and  unexperienced  stand  much  in  need  to  be  warn- 
ed. They  are  the  sanguine  promisers.  They  may  be  di- 
vided into  two  sorts.  The  first  are  those,  who,  from  a  fool- 
ish custom  of  fawning  upon  all  those  they  come  into  com- 
pany with,  have  learned  a  habit  of  promising  to  do  great 
kindnesses,  which  they  have  no  thought  of  performing. 
The  other  are  a  sort  of  warm  people,  who,  while  they  are 
lavishing  away  their  promises,  have  really  some  thoughts 
of  doing  what  they  engage  for.  But  afterwards,  when  the 
time  of  performance  comes,  the  sanguine  fit  being  gone 
off,  the  trouble  or  expense  appears  in  another  light ;  the 
promiser  cools,  and  the  expectant  is  bubbled,  and  perhaps 
greatly  injured  by  the  disappointment. 

When  it  sb  happens,  as  it  will  often  unavoidably,  in  spite 
of  the  greatest  wisdom,  and  the  strictest  integrity  of  con- 
duct, that  a  man  of  business  has  reason  to  think  he  cannot 
long  stand  it,  but  must  make  a  stop  of  payments,  it  will  be 
his  wisdom  to  call  together  his  creditors,  to  let  them  know 
the  state  of  his  affairs  before  they  come  to  the  worst;  and 
gain,  by  an  honest  and  full  surrender  of  all,  that  forbear- 
ance and  favour,  which  are  always  readily  granted  on  such 
occasions.     The  longer  a  bad  affair  of  that  kind  goes  on, 


(OF  PRUDENXE.  69 

it  grows  the  worse  ;  the  constant  expense  of  living,  dimi- 
nishes the  funds  ;  the  accounts  become  the  more  involv- 
ed, and  more  and  more  bad  debts  sink  the  value  of  the 
unfortunate  man's  estate.  Nor  is  such  a  misfortune  so 
extremely  formidable,  where  a  trader  can  make  it  appear, 
that  neither  gross  mismanagement,  nor  indirect  conduct 
have  occasioned  it.  On  the  contrary,  it  has  often  hap- 
pened, that  a  trader  has,  by  showing  a  singular  degree  of 
honesty  and  disinterestedness  on  such  an  occasion,  so  won 
the  compassion  and  esteem  of  his  creditors,  that  they 
have  not  only  allowed  him  time  to  make  up  his  affairs,  but 
have  even  given  him  such  encouragement,  and  done  him 
such  kindnesses,  as  have  enabled  him  to  raise  himself,  by 
his  industry,  to  circumstances  he  was  not  likely  ever  to 
have  arrived  at.  If  a  trader  will  flounder  on,  from  misfor- 
tune to  misfortune,  in  hopes  of  getting  clear  by  some 
lucky  hit,  he  must  be  content  to  take  the  consequences  ; 
but  prudence  will  direct  to  build  no  expectations  on  any 
scheme,  for  the  success  of  which  one  has  not  many  differ- 
ent probabilities,  in  case  of  the  failure  of  one  or  two. 

In  case  of  bankruptcy,  or  otherwise,  when  an  unfortu- 
nate trader,  through  the  lenity  of  his  creditors,  is  dis- 
charged, on  giving  up  his  effects,  and  paying  as  far  as  they 
will  go,  there  is  not  the  least  pretence  for  questioning, 
whether  he  is  obliged  to  make  up  the  deficiency,  if  ever  it 
should  be  in  his  power.  If  every  man  is  in  justice  oblig- 
ed to  make  full  payment  of  all  he  owes,  there  is  no  doubt 
but  in  this  case  there  is  the  same  obligation,  or  rather  in- 
deed a  stronger ;  because  the  creditors  have  quitted  part 
of  what  they  had  a  legal  claim  to,  and  have  thereby  laid 
him  under  an  obligation  to  do  them  justice,  if  ever  it 
should  be  in  his  power. 

The  success  of  business  being  so  extremely  precarious, 
it  is  a  very  considerable  part  of  prudence  to  take  care  what 
sort  of  people  one  is  concerned  with.  One  would  not 
choose  to  take  credit  of  an  avaricious  and  cruel  man,  lest 
it  should  happen,  by  an  unlucky  run  of  trade,  that  one's 
affairs  should  go  into  confusion,  and  one  should  fall  under 
the  power  of  such  a  person  ;  because  one  could  expect 
nothing  from  such  a  creditor  but  the  most  rigorous  treat- 
ment the  law  would  allow. 

The  knowledge  of  human  nature,  the  connection  be- 


70  OP  PRUDENXI-;. 

tween  men's  general  eharacters  and  their  respective  beliu- 
viour,  and  the  prudence  of  using  mankind  according  to 
their  dispositions  and  circumstances,  so  as  to  gain  one's 
laudable  designs  by  them,  is  a  very  important  part  of 
conduct. 

A  miser,  for  example,  is  by  no  means  a  proper  person 
to  apply  to  for  a  favour  that  will  cost  him  any  thing.  Bui 
if  he  be  a  man  of  any  principle,  he  will  make  an  excellent 
partner  in  trade,  or  arbitrator  in  a  dispute  about  property  : 
For  he  will  condescend  to  little  things,  and  stickle  for 
trifles,  which  a  srenerous  man  would  scorn. 

A  passionate  man  will  fly  into  a  rage  at  a  trifling  affront ; 
but  he  will,  generally  speaking,  soon  forget  thedisobliga- 
tion,  and  will  be  glad  to  doany  service  in  his  power  to  make 
it  up  with  you.  It  is  not  therefore,  by  far,  so  dangerous 
to  disoblige  such  a  one,  as  the  gloomy,  sullen  mortal,  who 
hardly  seems  displeased,  and  yet  will  wait  seven  years  for 
an  opportunity  of  doing  you  a  mischief.  Again,  a  cool 
slow  man  is,  generally  speaking,  the  fittest  to  advise  with  : 
but  for  dispatch  of  business,  make  use  of  the  warm,  san- 
guine temper. 

An  old  man  will  generally  give  you  the  best  advice  ; 
but  the  young  is  the  fittest  for  bustling  for  your  interest. 
There  are  some  men  of  no  character  at  all ;  but  take  a  new 
tincture  from  the  last  company  they  were  in.  It  is  not 
safe  to  have  any  thing  to  do  with  such. 

Some  men  are  wholly  ruled  by  their  wives,  and  most 
men  a  good  deal  influenced  by  them;  as  in  matters  of  the 
economy  and  decorum  of  life  it  is  fit  they  should.  It  will 
therefore  be  prudent,  generally  speaking,  to  accommodate 
one's  schemes  to  the  humour  of  both  parties,  when  one  is 
to  enter  into  important  concerns  with  a  married  man. 

It  is  in  vain  to  look  for  any  thing  very  valuable  in  the 
mind  of  a  covetous  man.  Avarice  is  generally  the  vice  of 
abject  spirits  ;  as  extravagance  often,  not  always,  of  gene- 
rous  minds.  Men,  who  have  a  great  talent  at  getting  of 
money,  most  commonly  have  no  other  ;  and  you  may  for 
the  most  part,  take  it  for  granted,  that  the  man,  who  has 
raised  exorbitant  wealth  from  nothing,  has  been  too  much 
engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  riches,  to  mind  his  own  im- 
provement, or  any  thing  besides  money. 

\  bully  is  generally  a  coward.     When,  therefore,  on^ 


OP  PRUDENCE.  71 

.happens  unluckily  to  have  to  do  with  such  a  one,  the  best 
way  is  to  make  up  to  him  boldly,  and  answer  him  with 
firmness ;  if  you  show  the  least  sign  of  submission,  he 
will  take  the  advantage  of  it  to  use  you  ill. 

A  boaster  is  to  be  suspected  in  all  he  says.  Such  men 
have  a  natural  infirmity,  which  makes  them  forget  what 
they  are  about,  and  run  into  a  thousand  extravagances, 
which  have  no  connection  with  truth.  Their  assertions, 
their  professions  of  friendship,  their  promises,  and  their 
threatenings,  go  for  nothing  with  men  of  understanding 
and  knowledge  of  the  world.  They  are  by  no  means  to 
be  trusted  with  a  secret.  If  they  do  not  discover  it  from 
vanity,  they  will  through  levity.  There  is  the  same  dan- 
ger in  trustina-  the  man  who  loves  his  bottle,  and  is  often 
disordered  with  liquor. 

A  meek  tempered  man  is  not  the  proper  person  to  soli- 
cit business  for  you  :  his  modesty  will  be  easily  con- 
founded. Nor  is  the  man  of  passion,  nor  the  talkative 
man  :  the  first  will  be  apt  to  be  put  out  of  temper,  and 
the  other  to  forget  himself,  and  blunder  out  somewhat 
that  may  be  to  the  prejudice  of  the  negociation.  The 
fittest  character  to  be  concerned  with,  is  that  in  which 
are  united  an  inviolable  integrity,  founded  upon  rational 
principles  of  virtue  and  religion,  a  cool  but  daring  tem- 
per, a  friendly  heart,  a  ready  hand,  long  experience,  and 
extensive  knowledge  of  the  world,  with  a  solid  reputation 
of  many  years  standing,  and  easy  circumstances. 

A  man's  ruling  passion  is  the  key  by  which  you  may 
let  yourself  into  his  character,  and  may  pretty  nearly  guess 
at  his  future  conduct,  if  he  be  not  a  wit  or  a  fool ;  for 
they  act  chiefly  from  caprice.  There  are  likewise  con- 
nections between  the  different  parts  of  men's  characters, 
which  it  will  be  useful  for  you  to  study.  If  you  find  a 
man  to  be  cowardly,  for  example,  you  may  suspect  him 
to  be  cruel,  deceitful,  and  sordid.  If  you  know  another 
to  be  hasty  and  passionate,  you  may  generally  take  it  for 
granted,  he  is  open  and  artless  ;  and  so  on.  But  these 
rules  admit  of  exceptions. 

There  are  six  sorts  of  people,  at  whose  hands  you  need 
not  expect  much  kindness.  The  sordid  and  narrow  mind- 
ed, think  of  nobody  but  their  noble  selves.  The  lazy  wiU 
not  take  the  trouble  to  serve  you.     The  busy  have  not 


72  OF  PRUDENXE. 

time  to  think  of  you.  The  overgrown  rich  man  is  above 
minding  any  one  who  needs  his  assistance.  The  poor 
and  unhappy,  lias  neither  spirit  nor  ability.  The  good 
natured  fool,  however  willing,  is  not  capable  of  serving 
you. 

In  negociating,  there  are  a  number  of  circumstances  to 
be  considered,  the  neglect  of  any  of  which  may  defeat 
your  whole  scheme.  First,  the  sex.  Women,  generally 
speaking,  are  naturally  diffident  and  timorous;  not  admi- 
rers of  plain  undisguised  truth,  apt  to  be  shocked  at  the 
least  defect  of  delicacy  in  the  address  of  those  who  ap- 
proach them  ;  fond  of  new  schemes ;  if  frugal,  apt  to  de- 
viate into  sordid  narrowness ;  almost  universally  given  to 
show  and  finery  ;  easily  influenced  by  inconsiderable  mo- 
tives, if  suitable  to  their  humour  ;  and  not  to  be  convinc- 
ed of  the  propriety  of  your  proposal,  so  much  by  solid 
reasoning,  as  by  some  witty  or  lively  manner  of  offering 
it ;  once  displeased  and  always  cold  ;  if  wicked  enough 
to  be  revengeful,  will  stick  at  nothing  to  accomplish  it. 
But  this  last  is  an  uncommon  character. 

The  age  of  the  person  you  are  to  deal  with  is  also  to  be 
considered.  Young  people  are  easily  drawn  into  any 
scheme,  merely  for  its  being  new,  especially  if  any  cir- 
cumstance in  it  suits  their  vanity  or  love  of  pleasure. 
They  arc  as  easily  put  out  of  conceit  with  a  proposal  by  the 
next  person  they  converse  with.  They  are  not  good  coun- 
sellors :  but  are  very  fit  for  action,  where  you  prescribe 
them  a  track,  from  which  they  know  they  are  not  to  vary, 
which  ought  always  to  be  done.  For  youth  is  generally 
precipitate  and  thoughtless.  Old  age,  on  the  contrary,  is 
slow,  but  sure  ;  cautious,  generally,  to  a  degree  of  suspi- 
ciousness ;  averse  to  new  schemes  and  ways  of  life  ;  gene- 
rally inclining  towards covetousness ;  fitter  to  consult  with, 
than  to  act  for  you ;  not  to  be  won  by  fair  speeches,  or 
convinced  by  long  reasonings  ;  tenacious  of  old  opinions, 
customs,  and  formalities  ;  apt  to  be  disobliged  with  those, 
especially  younger  people,  who  pretend  to  question  their 
judgment ;  fond  of  deference,  and  of  being  listened  to. 
Young  people  in  their  anger  mean  less  than  they  say  ; 
old  people  more.  You  may  make  it  up  with  most  young 
men  ;  old  people  are  generally  slow  in  forgiving. 

The  proper  time  of  addressing  a  person,  upon  an  affair 


OF  PRUDENCE.  73. 

of  any  consequence,  is  to  be  carefully  considered.  Wait 
on  a  courtier,  when  he,  or  any  friend,  whose  interest  he 
espouses,  is  candidate  for  some  place  of  preferment.  He 
will  not  then  venture  to  give  you  a  flat  denial  (however  he 
may  gull  you  with  promises)  for  fear  you  should  have  it 
in  your  power  to  traverse  his  design.  Or  when  he  has 
just  had  success  in  some  of  his  schemes;  for,  being  then 
in  good  humour,  he  may  give  you  a  more  favourable  re- 
ception. Do  business  with  a  phlegmatic,  slow  man,  after 
he  has  drank  his  bottle  ;  for  then  his  heart  is  open.  Treat 
with  a  gay  man  in  the  morning ;  for  then,  if  ever,  his  head 
is  clear. . 


SECTION.     V. 

Of  the  Regard  due  to  the  Opinion  of  others.    Of  Quarrels. 

THERE  is  a  weakness  very  common  among  the  best 
sort  of  people,  which  is  very  prejudicial,  to  wit;  letting 
their  happiness  depend  too  much  upon  the  opinion  of 
others.  It  is  certain  there  is  nothing  more  contemptible 
than  the  good  or  bad  opinion  of  the  multitude.  Other 
people  lie  under  such  disadvantages  for  coming  at  our 
true  characters,  and  are  so  often  misled  by  prejudice  for 
or  against  us,  that  it  is  of  very  little  consequence  whether 
they  approve  our  conduct,  if  our  own  conscience  con- 
demns us,  or  whether  they  find  fault,  if  we  are  sure  we 
acted  from  honest  motives,  and  with  a  view  to  worthy- 
ends.  But  indeed,  if  it  were  worth  while  to  endeavour 
to  please  mankind,  it  is  naturally  impracticable  ;  for  the 
most  part  are  so  much  governed  by  fancy,  that  what  will 
win  their  hearts  to-day,  will  disgust  them  to-morrow ;  and 
the  humours  and  prejudices,  which  rule  them,  are  so  vari- 
ous, and  so  opposite,  that  what  will  please  one  sect  or 
party,  will  thoroughly  dissatisfy  the  contrary. 

A  wise  man,  when  he  hears  of  reflections  made  upon 
him,  will  consider  if  they  are  just  or  not.  If  they  are,  he 
will  correct  the  faults  taken  notice  of  publicly  by  an  enemy, 
as  carefully  as  if  they  had  been  hinted  to  him  in  private  by 
a  friend.  He,  who  has  in  himself  wherewith  to  correct 
his  errors,  has  no  reason  to  be  uneasy  at  finding  them  out  j 
but  the  contrary. 

K 


74  OF  PRUDENCE. 

When  one  has  hud  information  of  his  being  ill  used  by 
another  behind  his  back,  it  is  first  of  all,  necessary  to  know 
with  the  utmost  certainty,  the  exact  truth  of  what  was 
said,  and  the  manner  and  probable  design  of  the  speaker. 
Otherwise  the  consequence  may  be,  that,  after  you  have 
expressed  your  resentment,  you  may  find  the  whole  was 
false,  or  not  worth  your  notice,  which  last  is  generally  the 
case.  And  then  you  are  obliged  to  own  you  went  too 
far,  so  that  the  other  then  thinks  himself  the  offended  per- 
son. And  very  few  of  mankind  know  what  it  is  sincerely 
and  from  the  heart  to  forgive,  even  after  the  most  abject 
submission. 

He  who  sets  up  for  forgiving  all  injuries,  Mill  have  no- 
thing else  to  do.  He  who  appears  to  be  weak,  will  be  of- 
ten imposed  on.  And  he  who  pretends  to  extraordinary- 
shrewdness,  invites  deceivers  to  try  their  talent  upon  him. 
Therefore,  a  little  spirit,  as  well  as  much  sagacity,  is  neces- 
sary, to  be  upon  even  terms  with  the  world. 

If  you  can  bring  yourself  either  not  to  listen  to  slanders 
against  yourself;  not  to  believe  that  they  were  uttered;  to 
persuade  yourself  that  the  person  who  uttered  them,  was 
out  of  humour  at  the  time,  or  was  drunk,  or  that  he  did 
not  so  much  mean  to  prejudice  you,  as  to  divert  the  com- 
pany ;  that  h,'  was  imposed  upon  with  respect  to  your 
character;  or  that  he  is  to  be  pitied  and  forgiven  ;  if  5  ou 
can  bring  yourself  to  any  of  these,  you  may  make  your- 
self easy,  and  rise  above  scandal  and  malice.  And  if  you 
should  make  a  matter  of  law,  or  of  life  and  death,  of  every 
idle  surmise  against  you,  you  will  not  be  a  whit  the  more 
secure  from  scandal ;  but  the  contrary.  Nothing  will  so 
effectually  keep  you  under  cover  from  the  strife  of  tongues, 
as  a  peaceable  disposition,  lo\  ing  retirement  and  obscurity, 
and  averse  to  meddling  with  the  affairs  of  others. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  interfere  in  other  people's  quarrels 
or  concerns  of  any  kind,  without  suffering  from  it,  one  way 
or  other.  The  wisest  men  are  always  the  most  cautious 
cf  such  interpositions  :  well  knowing  how  little  good  is  to 
be  done,  and  what  a  risk  one  runs.  Even  when  advice  is 
asked,  it  is  very  often  without  any  intention  of  following 
it.  And  the  only  consequence  of  giving  one's  sentiments 
freely,  is  disobliging. 

The  proper  temper  of  mind  for  accommodating  a  differ- 


OF  PRUDENCE.  73 

ence,  if  one  has  any  regard  either  to  prudence  or  humanity, 
is  by  no  means  a  spiteful,  a  revengeful,  or  a  sour  humour. 
For  such  a  behaviour  will  only  widen  the  breach,  and  in- 
flame the  quarrel. 

At  the  same  time,  will  it  not  be  prudent  to  appear  dis- 
posed to  put  up  with  any  terms,  or  drop  the  affair  in  dis- 
pute at  any  rate,  though  that  is  often  the  best  that  is  to  be 
done. 

When  one  has  to  do  with  a  bad  man  he  may  think  him- 
self well  off,  if  he  suffers  but  a  little  by  him,  and  be  thank- 
ful that  he  has  got  clear  of  him-  For  such  a  one  will  go 
lengths  against  a  conscientious  person,  which  he  dares  not 
to  go  in  his  own  defence. 

It  is  vain  to  think  of  doing  any  thing  by  letters  towards 
clearing  up  a  point  in  dispute.  One  hour's  conversation 
will  do  more  than  twenty  letters.  They  are  ticklish  wea- 
pons, and  require  to  be  handled  with  the  greatest  caution. 

On  the  present  head  of  differences  and  quarrels,  it  may 
not  be  amiss  just  to  touch  upon  the  subject  of  duels,  aris- 
ing from  a  false  notion  of  the  point  of  honour.  True  ho- 
nour does  not  consist  in  a  waspish  temper,  or  a  disposition 
to  make  a  matter  of  bloodshed  of  every  trifle  ;  but  in  an  in- 
vincible attachment  to  truth  and  virtue,  in  spite  of  fear, 
shame,  or  death  itself.  And  if  it  be  better  to  flatter  a 
fool,  than  fight  him ;  if  it  be  wisdom,  of  two  evils  to 
choose  the  least ;  and  if  the  consideration  of  the  atrocious 
wickedness  of  throwing  away  life,  and  rushing  into  the 
presence  of  our  Almighty  Judge  in  the  very  act  of  insult- 
ing him,  without  opportunity  for  repentance,  had  its  due 
weight  with  people,  one  would  think  they  would  contrive 
any  way  of  settling  disputes,  rather  than  with  the  sword. 
If  a  person  has  committed  a  slight  injury  against  me, 
where  lies  the  prudence,  or  the  common  sense,  of  giving 
him  an  opportunity  of  injuring  me  still  worse ;  I  mean  by 
taking  my  life. 

I  greatly  approve  the  conduct  of  an  English  officer  in 
Flanders,  whose  example  may  serve  as  an  universal  mo- 
del. That  gentleman,  having  received  a  challenge  from 
another,  refused  to  be  the  cause  of  the  shedding  of  either 
his  own,  or  another's  blood,  cold.  The  challenger  posted 
him  for  a  coward  :  He  posted  the  other  for  a  liar.  The 
challenger  threatened  to  cane  him.    He  told  him  he  would 


76  OF  PRUDENCE. 

stand  on  his  own  defence.  The  challenger  attacked  him. 
He  received  him  \  ithablow  oi  acudgel  on  the  head,  which 
laid  him  sprawling.  He  recovered,  drew,  and  made  an 
ill-directed  pass  at  the  pacific  gentleman,  who  received 
him  on  the  point  of  his  sword ;  which  ended  the  quarrel. 
The  gentleman's  courage  being  well  known,  and  the  whole 
affair  being  public,  it  was  brought  in  man-slaughter. 


SECTION  VI. 
Of  Marriage. 

IT  is  one  of  the  greatest  unhappinesses  of  our  times 
that  matrimony  is  so  much  discountenanced :  That  in 
London,  and  in  other  great  cities,  so  many  never  marry 
at  all,  and  that  the  greatest  part  have  got  into  the  unhappy 
and  unnatural  way  of  wasting  the  best  years  of  their  lives, 
in  pursuit  of  a  giddy  round  of  vain  amusements  and  crimi- 
nal pleasures,  (if  any  thing  criminal  can  be  called  a  plea- 
sure ;)  looking  upon  the  married  state  as  the  end  of  all  the 
happiness  of  life,  whereas  it  is  in  truth,  when  entered  into 
with  prudence,  only  the  beginning.  How  do  we  accord- 
ingly see  our  youth  go  on  to  thirty  or  forty  years  of  age, 
without  ever  thinking  of  settling  in  life,  as  becomes 
christians  and  members  of  society,  till  at  last,  being  sated 
and  cloved  with  lawless  love,  avarice  drives  them  to  seek 
the  alliance  of  a  wealthy  family,  or  dotage  puts  them 
upon  misapplying  that  sacred  institution  to  the  most  sordid 
purposes. 

The  advantage  of  early  marriage,  both  to  the  commu- 
nity and  to  particulars,  and  the  mischiefs  which  might 
thereby  be  prevented,  are  not  to  be  expressed.  It  is  there- 
fore my  advice  to  all  my  young  readers,  that  they  enter 
into  the  marriage  state  as  soon  as  they  find  themselves 
settled  in  a  likely  way  of  supporting  a  family.  And  I  can 
promise  them,  upon  the  general  experience  of  all  prudent 
and  good-natured  men,  that,  if  they  make  a  judicious 
choice,  the  only  thing  they  will  have  occasion  to  repent  of, 
will  be,  that  they  did  not  enter  into  that  state  sooner  ;  and 
that  they  will  find  it  as  much  beyond  the  happiest  single 
life,  as  ease  and  affluence  are  beyond  the  narrowest  circum- 
stances.    Indeed,  what  can  be  conceived  more  perfect  in 


OF  PRUDENCE.  77 

an  imperfect  state,  than  an  inseparable  union  of  interests 
between  two  persons,  who  love  one  another  with  sincerity 
and  tenderness;  who  mutually  desire  to  oblige  one  another; 
and  who  can,  with  the  utmost  freedom,  unbosom  to 
one  another  ail  their  joys,  and  all  their  griefs,  whereby  the 
one  may  be  double  and  the  other  divided  P  If  friendship 
has  afforded  matter  for  so  many  commendations,  worked 
up  with  innumerable  figures  of  rhetoric,  what  m.iy  not  be 
said  of  that  most  perfect  of  all  friendships,  which  subsists 
between  married  persons  ? 

I  do  not  deny,  that  there  are  women,  whose  natural  tem- 
pers are  so  unhappy,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  live  with  them  ; 
nor  that  the  ladies  of  our  times  give  themselves  up,  too  ge- 
nerally to  an  idle  and  expensive  manner  of  life,  to  the  great 
detriment  of  economy,  and  the  vexation  of  prudent  mas- 
ters of  families  :  but  it  must  be  owned,  at  the  same  time, 
that  the  greatest  number  of  unhappy  husbands  have  them- 
selves chiefly  to  thank  for  what  they  suffer.  If  a  man  will 
be  so  weak,  as  for  the  sake  of  either  beauty  or  fortune,  to 
run  the  desperate  hazard  of  taking  to  his  bosom  a  fury,  or 
an  idiot ;  or  if  he  will  suffer  a  woman,  who  might  by  gen- 
tle and  prudent  ways,  be  reclaimed  from  her  follies,  to  run 
on  to  ruin,  without  having  the  spirit  to  warn  her  of  the  con- 
sequences ;  or  if,  instead  of  endeavouring  by  the  humane 
methods  of  remonstrance  and  persuasion,  joined  with  the 
endearments  of  conjugal  affection,  which  a  woman  must 
be  a  monster  to  resist ;  I  say,  i£  instead  of  endeavouring, 
by  mild  and  affectionate  methods,  to  show  her  the  error 
and  bad  consequences  of  her  manner  of  life,  a  man  will 
resolve  to  carry  things  with  a  high  hand,  and  to  use  a  wo- 
man of  natural  sense,  birth,  and  fortune,  every  way  equal 
to  himself,  as  a  slave,  or  a  fool,  it  is  no  wonder  that  his  re- 
monstrances are  ineffectual,  and  that  domestic  peace  is  in- 
terrupted and  economy  subverted. 

It  is  not  the  most  exquisite  beauty,  the  most  sprightly 
wit,  or  the  largest  fortune,  nor  all  three  together,  nor  an 
hundred  other  accomplishments,  if  such  there  were,  that 
will  make  a  man  happy  in  a  partner  for  life,  who  is  not  en- 
dowed with  the  two  principal  accomplishments,  of  good 
sense  and  good  nature.  If  a  woman  has  not  common 
sense,  she  can  be  in  no  respect  a  fit  companion  f  )r  a  rea- 
sonable man.     On  the  contrary,  the  whole  behaviour  of  a 


78  OF  PRUDENCE. 

fool  must  be  disgusting  and  tiresome  to  every  one  that 
knows  her,  especially  to  a  husband,  Avho  is  obliged  to  be 
more  in  her  company  than  any  one  else,  who  must  there- 
fore see  more  of  her  folly  than  any  one  else,  and  must 
suffer  more  from  the  shame  of  it,  as  being  more  nearly 
connected  with  her  than  any  person.  If  a  woman  has 
not  some  small  share  of  sense,  what  means  can  a  husband 
use  to  set  her  right  in  any  error  of  conduct,  into  many  of 
which  she  will  naturally  run  ?  Not  reason  or  argument, 
for  a  fool  is  proof  against  that.  And  if  she  has  not  a  lit- 
tle good  nature,  to  attempt  to  advise  her,  will  be  only  ar- 
guing with  a  tempest,  or  rousing  a  fury. 

If,  between  the  two  married  persons,  there  be,  upon  the 
whole  enough  for  a  comfortable  subsistence  according  to 
their  station  and  temper  of  mind,  it  signifies  very  little 
whether  it  comes  by  one  side,  or  the  other,  or  both.  No- 
thing is  more  absurd,  than  that  it  should  seem  of  such  im- 
portance in  the  judgment  of  many  people,  that  a  gentleman 
make  a  match  suitable  to  himself,  as  they  often  very  im- 
properly call  it;  by  which  they  mean,  that  he  is  in  duty 
bound  to  find  out  a  lady  possessed  of  a  fortune  equal  to 
his  own,  though  what  he  has  already,  may  be  more  than 
sufficient  for  supporting  the  rank  he  is  born  in.  The  con- 
sequences of  this  mercenary  way  of  proceeding,  are  only 
the  accumulating  more  and  more  materials  for  luxury, 
vanity,  and  ostentation,  the  perversion  of  the  institution  of 
marriage,  which  was  for  the  mutual  support  and  comfort  of 
the  parties,  into  a  mere  affair  of  bargain  and  sale  ;  the  alie- 
nating, or  cooling  the  affections  of  the  parties  for  one  an- 
other, by  showing  each  of  them,  that  the  union  was  not 
entered  into  by  the  other  on  account  of  any  personal  re- 
gards, but  from  mercenary  motives  only  ;  and  the  separa- 
tion, instead  of  the  union  of  interests.  It  is  no  wonder, 
that  such  marriages  prove  unhappy  ;  and  that  each  should 
look  upon  the  other  as  a  clog  annexed  to  the  fortune,  which 
was  the  principal  object  each  aimed  at,  and  should  there- 
fore mutually  wish  one  another  well  out  of  the  way. 

I  do  not  here  mean  to  insinuate,  that  every  woman  of 
fortune  must  of  course  be  good  for  nothing.  But,  that  a 
man  in  affluent  circumstances  is  much  to  blame,  who,  for 
the  sake  of  adding  to  an  heap,  already  too  large,  enters  into 
an  engagement,  to  which  inclination  does  not  lead  him, 


OP  PRUDENCE.  79 

and  deprives  himself  of  an  opportunity  of  gaining  and  fix- 
ing the  affections  of  a  virtuous  and  amiable  person,  raised 
bv "him  to  a  rank  above  her  expectations,  and  thereby  inspir- 
ed, if  she  is  not  wholly  void  of  goodness,  with  such  a  sense  of 
gratitude  to  her  benefactor,  as  must  influence  all  her  actions. 

On  the  other  hand,  nothing  is  more  dreadful  than  the 
prospect  those  people  have,  who  from  romantic  love,  run 
precipitately  into  an  engagement,  that  must  hold  for  life, 
without  considering  or  providing  for  the  consequences. 
Two  young  persons,  who  hurry  into  marriage,  without  a 
reasonable  prospect  of  an  income  to  support  them  and 
their  family,  are  in  a  condition  as  wretched  as  any  I  know 
of,  where  a  guilty  conscience  is  out  of  the  question.  Let 
a  man  consider  a  little,  when  he  views  the  object  of  his 
passion,  to  whom  he  longs  to  be  united  by  a  sacred  and 
indissoluble  bond,  how  he  will  bear  to  see  those  eyes, 
every  glance  of  which  makes  his  heart  bound  with  joy, 
drowned  in  tears,  at  the  thought  of  misery  and  poverty 
coming  upon  her ;  how  he  will  bear  to  see  that  face,  whose 
smile  rejoices  his  soul,  grown  pale  and  haggard  through 
anguish  of  mind  ;  or  how  he  will  bear  to  think  that  the 
offspring,  she  is  going  to  bring  forth,  is  to  be  born  to  beg^ 
gary  and  misery.  If  young  people  consider  maturely 
the  fearful  consequences  of  marriage,  where  there  is  no, 
prospect  of  a  proper  provision,  and  where  the  anguish  of 
poverty  will  be  the  more  intolerable,  the  more  sincere  their 
affections  are ;  they  would  not  run  headlong,  as  we  often 
see  them,  into  misery  irretrievable. 

It  may  often  happen,  that  the  family  and  connexions 
with  which  a  woman  is  engaged,  may  alone  be  of  more 
advantage  to  a  man  than  a  fortune  ;  as  on  the  other  hand, 
it  may  happen,  that  a  woman  of  fortune,  may  be  so  given 
to  expense,  or  may  bring  with  her  such  a  tribe  of  poor 
relations,  as  thrice  the  income  of  her  fortune  would  not  be 
sufficient  to  maintain.  In  either  of  these  cases,  a  man's 
prudence  is  to  direct  him  to  make  that  choice  which  will 
be  the  best  upon  the  whole. 

It  is  a  fatal  error  in  the  conduct  of  many  young  people 
in  the  lower  ranks  of  life,  to  make  choice  of  young  women, 
who  have  been  brought  up  in  indolence  and  gaiety,  and 
are  not  possessed  of  fortunes  suitable  to  the  manner  of 
life  they  nave  been  accustomed  to.  The  probable  conse- 
quence of  sucn  matches,  is  great  and  remediless  misery. 


30  OF  PfcUDENXE. 

For  such  women,  having  never  been  practised  in  the  econo- 
my of  families,  arc  incapable  of  applying  themselves  with 
that  attention  and  assiduity,  much  less  condescension,  to 
the  meaner  parts  of  household  affairs  which  is  absolutely 
necessary,  where  the  income  is  but  moderate.  If  a  young 
trader's  gains  are  but  small,  and  his  help-mate  neither 
brings  in  any  thing  to  the  common  stock,  nor  knows  how 
to  make  the  most  of  a  little,  and  at  the  same  time  there 
is  a  prospect  of  a  numerous  family  of  children  coming  on, 
with  die  casualties  of  sickness,  a  decay  of  trade,  and  so  forth, 
the  man,  who  finds  himself  involved  in  such  a  scene  of 
troubles,  may  justly  be  looked  upon,  as  among  the  most 
wretched  of  mortals. 

Those  marriages,  in  short,  are  likely  to  be  crowned  with 
all  the  happiness  this  state  admits  of,  where  a  due  regard 
is  had  to  the  qualities  of  the  mind,  to  personal  endowments 
as  an  agreeable  appearance,  and  a  suitable  age,  and  to 
prudential  considerations ;  and  where  either  the  one  or  the 
other  is  neglected,  misery  is  the  consequence  to  be 
looked  for. 

There  is  no  care  or  diligence  too  much  to  use,  nor  any 
inquiry  too  curious  to  be  made,  before  one  engages  for 
life.  In  an  unhappy  marriage  every  little  occurrence^ 
every  trifling  circumstance  calls  to  remembrance  the 
wretchedness  of  the  state,  and  the  happiness  one  has  miss- 
ed by  making  an  injudicious  choice ;  as,  on  the  contrary, 
in  an  happy  union,  no  accident  is  too  trifling  to  pass  with- 
out furnishing  somewhat  to  give  pleasure  or  entertainment, 
which  must  be  heightened  by  being  mutual.  Let  young 
people,  therefore,  be  advised,  above  all  things,  to  be  care- 
ful what  choice  they  make.  And,  that  they  may  be  effect- 
ually divested  of  all  prejudices  and  attachments  in  favour 
of  any  person,  whose  outward  appearance,  fortune,  birth, 
or  any  other  circumstance,  separate  from  the  endowments 
of  the  mind,  may  be  apt  to  mislead  them,  let  them  con- 
siderthe  character  of  the  object,  abstractly  from  the  glare 
of  beauty,  or  the  lustre  of  fortune,  and  then  be  true  to 
themselves,  and  act  the  part  which  the  judicious  and  im- 
partial approve  of. 

Let  a  young  gentleman  observe,  before  he  allows  his 
affection  to  fix  upon  a  particular  object,  what  figure  and 
<  haracter  she  bears  in  the  world  ;   whether  others  admire 


OF  PRUDENCE.  81 

her,  as  well  as  himself ;  especially,  whether  the  cool  and 
judicious,  and  elderly  people  approve  her  character,  con- 
duct, and  all  circumstances,  as  well  as  the  young,  the 
thoughtless,  and  passionate.  The  bloom  of  beauty  will 
soon  wither ;  the  glitter  of  riches,  and  the  farce  of  gran- 
deur, will  quickly  become  insipid  ;  nor  will  any  thing 
earthly  give  peace  to  the  wretch  who  has  taken  a  serpent 
into  his  bosom,  whose  sting  he  feels  every  moment  in 
his  heart. 

During  the  time  of  courtship,  though  a  man  must  re- 
solve to  put  on  a  smooth  and  engaging  behaviour,  there 
is  no  necessity,  nor  is  it  expected  by  the  reasonable  part 
of  womankind,  that  the  dignity  of  the  nobler  sex  should 
be  laid  aside,  and  the  lover  debase  himself,  from  a  man  of 
spirit,  to  a  slave  or  a  sycophant.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
absolutely  necessary,  if  people  are  resolved  to  consult  the 
happiness  of  the  marriage  state,  to  behave  to  one  another 
in  courtship,  in  such  a  manner,  that  neither  may  have 
reason  to  reproach  the  other  with  having  acted  a  deceitful 
and  unworthy  part.  For,  if  mutual  love  and  esteem  be 
the  very  cement  of  matrimonial  happiness,  and  if  it  be 
impossible  to  love  and  esteem  a  person,  who  has  deceived 
and  imposed  upon  one,  how  cautious  ought  both  parties 
to  be,  before  entering  into  so  close  an  union,  of  doing 
what  may  tend  to  lessen  their  mutual  love  and  esteem  for 
one  another  ? 

Nor  is  there  less  prudence  requisite  for  preserving  the 
happiness  of  the  marriage  state,  than  for  establishing  it 
at  first.  When  it  happens,  as  it  will  unavoidably  at  times, 
that  the  husband,  or  wife,  is  a  little  out  of  humour,  it  will 
be  highly  imprudent  for  the  other  to  insist  upon  reason, 
ing  the  matter  out,  or  deciding  the  point  in  question,  at 
that  time.  The  dispute  ought  to  be  let  alone,  at  least,  till 
some  time  afterwards,  or,  if  possible,  dropped  entirely. 
It  may  even  be  proper  often  to  give  up  a  point,  and  agree, 
( contrary  to  one's  own  j  udgment)  to  what  isadvanced  by  the 
other ;  Avhich  will  show,  that  one  does  not  oppose  from 
mere  perverseness  ;  but  on  good  grounds. 

Again,  if  one  happens  to  be  in  a  thoughtful,  or  serious 
mood,  it  must  be  very  injudicious  in  the  other  to  put  on  a 
very  gay  behaviour ;  and  contrariwise.  Married  people 
ought  to  think  nothing  trifling,  or  of  small  consequence, 

L 


£2  OF  PRUDENXE. 

that  may  please  or  disgust  one  another.  They  ought  to 
watch  one  another's  looks ;  to  study  one  another's  tempers ; 
to  fly  to  oblige  one  another  ;  and  to  be  afraid  of  the  blowing 
of  a  feather,  if  it  has  the  least  chance  to  displease.  For, 
while  the  husband  consults  his  wife's  satisfaction,  he  is 
studying  to  promote  his  own  happiness,  and  so  of  the  wife. 
Cleanliness,  dress,  complaisance;  every  little  piece  of  ob- 
sequiousness and  tenderness  ;  consulting  one  another  upon 
every  trifle,  however  obvious  ;  commendations  of  one  an- 
other's judgment  or  taste,  if  expressed  with  address,  and 
without  the  appearance  of  flattery  ;  yielding  every  point, 
if  possible,  before  there  be  time  to  dispute  it ;  these  are  the 
arts,  by  which  love  is  kept  alive  for  life. 

Too  great,  and  too  constant  fondness  and  indulgence 
will  sometimes  be  found  to  lessen  affection,  as  it  may  make 
the  smallest  occasional  remission,  or  change  of  behaviour, 
be  construed  into  coldness.  Even  the  constant  presence 
of  married  persons  together,  where  there  is  no  opportunity 
of  longing  for  the  sight  of  one  another,  may  occasion  in- 
indifferenee.  bo  delicate  is  the  passion  of  love,  and  so 
easily  cooled ! 


SECTION  VII. 
Of  the  Management  of  Children. 

CHILDREN  being  the  usual  consequence  of  mar- 
riage, it  is  natural  in  this  place  to  say  something  on  the 
conduct  that  is  necessary  for  bringing  them  up  to  matu- 
rity, and  settling  them  in  the  world. 

It  is  certain,  that  what  very  strongly  affects  the  mother, 
will  likewise  often  produce  amazing  effects  both  upon  the 
body  and  mind  of  the  infant  in  her  womb.  If,  therefore,  a 
man  docs  not  choose  to  have  a  monster,  an  ideot,  or  a  fu- 
rv  born  to  him,  he  ought  to  take  the  utmost  care,  that  his 
pregnant  wife  be  kept  as  much  as  possible  from  the  sight 
of  uncouth  objects,  and  from  whatever  may  terrify  her,  or 
ruffle  her  temper.  Indv  ed,  the  distress  a  weak  woman  un- 
dergoes in  that  condition  is  such,  that  none  but  a  savage 
could  find  in  his  heart  to  heighten  by  ill  usage. 

The  child  being  brought  into  the  world,  the  care  of  its 
health  lies  wholly  upon  the  mother.     And  that  mother, 


OF  PRUDENCE.  80 

who,  according  to  the  present  polite  custom,  more  bar- 
barous than  any  that  prevails  among  the  brutes,  turns  her 
own  offspring  over  to  the  care  of  a  mercenary  nurse,  on 
any  pretence  but  absolute  necessity,  ought  not  to  be  sur- 
prised,  if  her  child  grows  up  with  a  diseased  constitution, 
or  a  depraved  disposition,  the  effects  of  sucking  the  breast 
of  an  unhealthy  or  ill  tempered  woman  ;  or  if  its  tender 
limbs  be  distorted,  its  faculties  stupified,  or  its  days  short- 
ened by  gin,  opium,  or  Godfrey's  Cordial.* 

Whoever  would  have  healthy  and  hardy  children,  must 
not  onlv  live  temperately  themselves,  but  must  take  care, 
that  their  children,  especially  in  their  infancy,  be  kept  from 
all  manner  of  gross  food,  as  meat  and  sauces,  and  be  allow- 
ed to  indulge  very  sparingly  in  sweetmeats,  but  by  no 
means  to  touch  strong  liquors.  With  every  bit  of  the 
one,  or  a  sip  of  the  other,  an  infant  swallows  the  seeds  of  a 
variety  of  species  of  diseases.  For  it  being  impossible 
that  the  stomach  of  a  child  should  be  strong  enough  to  di- 
gest what  those  of  grown  people  cannot,  without  prejudice 
to  their  constitutions,  and  shortening  of  their  days,  it  is 
plain,  that  such  substances  must  turn  to  crudities,  which 
must  mix  with  and  corrupt  the  whole  mass  of  blood.  If 
a  child  is  never  used  to  indulgences  in  this  respect,  he  will 
suffer  nothing  from  the  refusal  of  what  is  not  fit  for  him. 
For  he  will  be  just  what  he  is  made  by  habit  and  custom. 

From  the  time  a  child  begins  to  -speak,  to  four  or  five 
years  of  age,  is  the  proper  period  for  breaking  and  forming 
his  temper.  If  that  important  work  is  not  done  within  this 
time,  it  is,  in  most  children,  not  to  be  done  at  all.  For  the 
mind  quickly  acquires  a  degree  of  obstinacy  and  untract- 
ableness,  that  is  not  to  be  conquered  by  any  methods 
which  tender  parents  can  bring  themselves  to  use.  And 
habits  once  rooted,  are  not  to  be  eradicated  but  by  very 
violent  means. 

Of  all  the  follies  which  show  themselves  in  innumera- 
ble different  ways,  in  the  conduct  of  our  weak  and  short- 
sighted species,  there  is  none  that  is  more  general,  that 
goes  more  extravagant  lengths,  or  proves  more  fatal,  than 
that  which  appears  in  the  partiality  of  fond  patents  for 
their  children.     To  love  our  offspring  with  the  utmost 

*  A  common  custom  with  industrious  nurses,  to  quiet  the  children  com- 
jutted  to  their  care,  tliat  they  may  in  the  mean  time  goon  with  *ther  business* 


84  OF  PRUDENCE. 

tenderness,  to  labour,  to  wish,  and  to  pray  for  their  real 
good,  is  no  doubt  our  indispensable  duty.  But  to  shut 
our  eves  against  their  faults,  or  to  resolve  not  to  correct 
them  for  fear  of  giving  them  a  little  pain  ;  to  effeminate 
and  enervate  their  spirits  by  fondling  them  ;  to  grant  to 
their  importunity,  what  we  ought  on  all  accounts  to  re- 
fuse ;  to  hurt  their  constitutions,  by  indulging  them  in 
what  is  improper  for  them  ;  to  neglect  the  cultivation  of 
their  minds  with  useful  knowledge,  through  fear  of  over* 
burdening  their  faculties  ;  and  above  all,  to  be  so  weak  as 
to  let  them  know  our  weakness ;  if  there  be  any  infir- 
mity beyond  this,  it  must  be  somewhat  I  have  never 
heard  of. 

By  that  time  people  come  to  be  parents  it  is  to  be  ex- 
pected they  should  be  past  the  folly  of  youth,  the  usual  ex- 
cuse for  the  next  greatest  weakness  of  human  nature,  I 
mean  romantic  love.  But  we  see  every  day,  instances  to 
the  contrary ;  parents  indulging,  their  children  in  every 
wrong  tendency,  and  even  delighted  with  that  very  obsti- 
nacy, and  those  very  follies,  which  they  cannot  but  think, 
must  one  day,  make  both  them  and  their  children  un- 
happy ;  allowing  themselves  to  be  overcome  by  their  soli- 
citations, to  grant  them  what  they  know  must  prove  hurt- 
ful to  them  ;  and  withholding  from  them,  at  their  desire, 
what  they  know  is  their  greatest  good. 

A  proof  of  the  mischiefs  arising  from  fondness  for  chil- 
dren, is,  that  we  find  by  experience,  the  fools  in  a  great 
family  are  generally  the  eldest  and  youngest,  whose  fate  is 
commonly  to  be  most  doted  on.  Those  in  the  middle, 
who  pass  neglected,  are  commonly  found  to  turn  out  best 
in  life.  Natural  sons,  foundlings,  and  outcasts,  often 
make  their  way  better  in  the  world,  by  their  own  industry, 
with  little  or  no  education,  than  those  who  have  been 
brought  up  in  effeminacy  and  extravagance,  and  with  ex- 
pectations of  a  fortune ;  whose  education  is  by  those 
means  in  a  great  measure  defeated. 

If  you  observe  your  child  given  to  falsehood,  one  of 
the  worst  tendencies  that  can  discover  itself  in  a  young 
mind,  (as  implying  a  kind  of  natural  baseness  of  spirit,) 
the  point  in  view  must  be,  to  endeavour  to  raise  in  him 
such  a  sense  of  honour,  as  may  set  him  above  that  base 
practice.     For  this  purpose,  it  may  be  proper  to  express 


OF  PRUDENCE.  85 

the  utmost  astonishment  upon  the  first  information  of  his 
transgressing  that  way  ;  to  seem  to  disbelieve  it,  and  to 
punish  him  rather  with  shame  and  the  loss  of  your  favour, 
than  any  other  way  ;  and  if  you  can  raise  in  him  a  sense 
of  shame,  you  will  quickly  habituate  him  to  take  care  of 
falling  into  shameful  actions.  A  turn  to  pilfering  of  play- 
things, or  sweetmeats,  is  to  be  treated  in  the  same  man- 
ner; as,  is  also,  a  disposition  to  tricking  at  play,  and  in 
purchasing  of  playthings  of  others,  his  equals. 

To  remove  out  of  the  way  one  great  temptation  to  ly- 
ing, or  equivocation,  (which  is  as  bad,)  it  will  be  a  good 
method  to  let  him  know,  he  may  always  expect  to  be  par- 
doned what  he  has  done  amiss,  upon  an  honest  and  ingen- 
uous confession.  For  indeed,  there  is  no  fault  a  child  is 
likely  to  be  guilty  of,  that  is  so  bad  as  a  lie,  or  trick,  to 
excuse  it.  Therefore  it  will  be  best,  before  you  mention 
what  you  have  to  accuse  him  of,  to  put  it  in  his  power  to 
save  the  punishment,  by  making  the  discovery  himself; 
intimating,  that  you  know  more  than  he  may  think  of,  and 
that  you  will  treat  him  accordingly  as  you  find  he  deals 
ingenuously  with  you,  or  otherwise. 

If  your  son  seems  to  show  a  turn  to  craft,  and  sly  de- 
ceit, which  appears  in  some  children  very  early,  and  is  a 
Aery  unpromising  character, the  likeliest  way  to  break  him 
of  that  vice,  is  by  showing  him  that  his  little  arts  are  seen 
through  ;  by  triumphing  over  him,  and  ridiculing  his  in- 
effectual cunning  in  the  severest  manner  you  can  ;  and  by 
suspecting  some  design  in  all  he  says  and  does,  and  put- 
ting him  to  such  inconveniences  by  your  suspicions  of 
him,  as  may  make  him  resolve  to  be  open  and  honest, 
merely  in  self-defence. 

If  his  bent  be  to  passion  and  resentment,  shutting  him 
up,  and  keeping  him  from  his  diversions  and  playfellows, 
is  the  proper  method  of  treating  him  ;  because  it  gives 
him  an  opportunity  for  what  he  most  wants,  to  wit,  con- 
sideration, and  attention  to  his  own  weakness,  which  is  all 
that  is  in  early  age  necessary  to  the  conquest  of  it. 

If  he  appears  timorous  or  cowardly,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  accustom  him,  by  degrees,  to  crowds,  to  stormy  weath- 
er, to  rough  waters,  to  the  sight  of  counterfeit  fighting 
matches,  and  to  be  handled  a  little  roughly,  but  without 
danger  of  being  hurt,  by  others  of  his  own  age.     If  his 


80  OP  PRUDENXE. 

temper  seems  too  boisterous,  so  that  he  is  always  ready  to 
quarrel,  and  loves  fighting  for  fighting's  sake,  keeping  him 
among  the  female  part  of  the  family,  is  the  likeliest  me- 
chanical means  I  know  for  softening  his  manners. 

If  he  shows  too  much  self  conceit,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
mortify  him  from  time  to  time,  by  showing  him  his  de- 
fects, and  how  much  he  is  exceeded  by  others.  If  he  is 
bashful  and  timorous,  he  must  be  encouraged  and  com- 
mended for  whatever  he  does  well. 

If  a  child  seems  inclined  to  sauntering  and  idleness, 
emulation  is  the  proper  cure  to  be  administered.  If  he 
sees  others  of  his  equals  honoured  and  caressed  for  using 
a  little  diligence,  he  must  be  of  a  temper  uncommonly 
insensible,  and  of  a  spirit  uncommonly  abject,  if  he  is  not 
moved  to  emulate  their  improvements. 

Lying  abed  in  a  morning,  or  passing,  at  any  time,  a 
whole  day,  without  doing  somewhat,  towards  his  improve- 
ment, if  in  health,  ought  by  no  means  to  be  allowed  in  a 
child  who  is  come  to  the  age  of  learning  to  spell.  And  if 
he  is  from  his  infancy,  accustomed  to  hear  schools  and 
places  of  education  spoke  of  as  scenes  of  happiness  ;  and 
has  books  (not  sweetmeats,  plaj'things,  or  fine  clothes,) 
given  him  as  the  most  valuable  presents  and  the  richest  re- 
wards, he  can  hardly  fail  to  be  moved  to  exert  himself. 
But  all  this  is  directly  contrary  to  the  common  practice  of 
threatening  a  child  with  school  whenever  he  does  amiss ; 
of  setting  him  a  task  as  a  punishment,  and  of  sending  for 
him  from  school,  from  time  to  time,  as  a  gratification. 

A  tendency  to  prodigality,  in  a  child,  is  to  be  curbed  as 
early  as  possible.  For  he  who  will  in  his  youth  lavish 
away  half-pence,  when  he  comes  to  manhood,  will  be  apt 
to  squander  away  guineas.  The  best  methods  I  know 
for  correcting  this  bias  in  a  child,  are  such  as  these  :  En- 
couraging him  to  save  a  piece  of  money  some  little  time, 
on  the  promise  of  doubling  it,  and,  which  is  to  the  same 
purpose,  lessening  his  allowance  (but  not  by  any  means 
depriving  him  wholly  of  pocket  money)  in  case  of  mis- 
conduct :  obliging  him  to  give  an  exact  account  of  his 
manner  of  laying  out  his  money,  by  memory  at  first,  and 
afterwards  in  a  written  account,  regularly  kept ;  putting  in 
a  purse  by  itself  a  penny,  or  sixpence,  for  every  penny  or 


OP  PRUDENCE.  ST 

sixpence  given  him,  and  showing  him,  from  time  to  time, 
the  sum  ;  and  so  forth. 

There  is  no  error  more  fatal,  than  imagining,  that 
pinching  a  youth  in  his  pocket  money,  will  teach  him  fru- 
gality. On  the  contrary,  it  will  only  occasion  his  running 
into  extravagance  with  so  much  the  more  eagerness, 
whenever  he  comes  to  have  money  in  his  own  hands ;  as 
pinching  him  in  his  diet  will  make  his  appetite  only  the 
more  rapacious.  In  the  same  manner,  confining  him  too 
much  from  diversions  and  company,  will  heighten  his  de- 
sire after  them  :  And  overloading  and  fatiguing  him  with 
study,  or  with  religious  exercises,  will  disgust  him  against 
learning  and  devotion.  For  human  nature  is  like  a  stream 
of  water,  which,  if  too  much  opposed  in  its  course,  will 
swell,  and  at  length  overflow  ail  bounds  ;  but,  carefully 
kept  within  its  banks,  will  enrich  and  beautify  the  places 
it  visits  in  its  course. 

If  you  put  into  the  hands  of  your  child,  more  money 
than  is  suitable  to  his  age  and  discretion,  expect  to  find 
that  he  has  thrown  it  away  upon  what  is  not  only  idle,  but 
hurtful.  A  certain  small  regular  income  any  child  above 
six  years  of  age  ought  to  have,  but  I  should  think  no  ex- 
traordinary advance  proper  upon  any  account.  When 
he  comes  to  be  capable  of  keeping  an  account,  he  ought 
to  be  obliged  to  it.  He  will  thereby  acquire  a  habit  of 
frugality,  attention,  and  prudence,  that  will  be  of  service 
to  him  through  his  whole  life.  On  the  contrary,  giving 
a  young  person  money  to  spend  at  will,  without  requiring 
any  account  of  it,  is  leading,  or  rather  forcing  him  upon 
extravagance  and  folly- 

As  a  turn  to  covetousness  and  hoarding,  it  is  in  a  child 
a  frightful  temper,  indicating  a  natural  inclination  to  sor- 
did selfishness.  This  being  a  disposition  which  strength- 
ens with  years,  and  holds  to  the  last,  when  it  begins  to  ap- 
peal" so  early,  it  is  to  be  expected  it  will  come  to  an  ex- 
cessive degree  in  time.  A  lad  ought  to  be  broke  of  this 
unhappy  turn,  by  showing  him  the  odiousness  of  it  in  the 
judgment  of  all  openhearted  people,  and  by  exposing  his 
churlishness  to  the  ridicule  of  his  equals.  Children 
ought  to  be  accustomed  from  their  earliest  years,  to  bring 
themselves  with  ease  to  quit  what  they  may  have  a  right 
to  ;  to  give  away  part  of  their  fruits  or  sweetmeats,  and 


88  OF  PRUDENXE. 

to  bestow,  out  of  their  pocket  money,  for  the  relief  of 
the  poor. 

A  natural  perverseness  and  obstinacy  in  the  temper  of  a 
child,  it  is  hardly  possible  to  break,  after  seven  or  eight 
years  of  age,  till  reason  and  experience  do  it,  which  may 
never  happen.  And  even  before  that  early  period,  it  is  not, 
in  some,  to  be  conquered  but  by  severe  means  ;  though 
severity  may  be  used  without  violence,  as  by  confinement 
and  dieting.  When  a  parent  finds  himself  obliged  to  come 
to  extremities,  the  mildest  way  of  proceeding,  is  to  re- 
solve to  go  through  with  it  at  once.  It  is  likewise  a  more 
effectual  method,  to  punish  once  with  some  severity,  than 
a  great  many  times  in  a  superficial  manner.  For  when 
once  a  child,  of  sturdy  spirit  and  constitution,  becomes  ac- 
customed to  punishment,  he  grows  hardened  against  it, 
till  at  length  it  loses  its  effects,  and  becomes  no  punish- 
ment. I  need  not  add,  that  correction,  when  things  come 
to  the  extremity  which  renderj  it  absolutely  necessary, 
ought  always  to  be  administered  with  coolness  and  delibe- 
ration, and  not  without  visible  reluctance,  that  the  child 
may  plainly  see  it  is  not  passion  in  the  parent,  but  a  regard 
to  his  good,  and  absolute  necessity  that  brings  it  upon  him. 
And  as  nothing  but  a  visible  pravity  of  mind  is  sufficient 
to  make  so  rough  a  remedy  necessary,  so,  whenever  the 
perverseness,  or  wickedness  of  disposition  which  occa- 
sioned it,  seems  perfectly  conquered,  it  ought  by  all  means 
to  be  given  over,  and  a  quite  contrary  behaviour  to  be  as- 
sumed by  the  parent.  For  the  danger  of  hardening  the 
temper  of  a  child,  by  making  him  too  familiar  with  punish- 
ment, is  almost  as  bad  as  any  fault  intended  to  be  corrected 
by  it.  Confinement,  dieting,  restraint  from  the  amuse- 
ments allowed  to  others,  his  equals,  the  loss  of  his  father's 
or  mother's  favour,  and,  above  all,  disgrace,  are  much  the 
most  ingenuous  punishments  to  be  inflicted  on  young 
gentlemen. 

When  it  is  found  necessary  to  inflict  disgrace,  the  ut- 
most care  ought  to  be  taken,  that  the  whole  family  appear 
to  be  of  a  mind.  If  the  father  chides,  and  the  mother  or 
anv  oilier  person  encourages,  what  effect  can  be  expected 
to  be  worked  upon  the  mind  of  the  child  ?  On  the  other 
hand,  when  he  meets  with  coldness  and  discoufragem'errt 


OF  PRUDENCE.  89 

from  every  body,  he  will  find  himself  under  a  necessity 
of  amending  his  manners  in  his  own  defence. 

To  make  the  young  mind  the  more  susceptible  of  a 
sense  of  shame,  and  to  inspire  it  with  sentim  ents  of  true 
honour ;  youth  should  be  very  early  taught  to  entertain 
worthy  thoughts  of  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature,  and 
the  reverence  we  owe  ourselves,  so  that  they  may  be  made 
to  stand  in  so  much  awe  of  themselves  as  not  to  do  a  mean 
action,  though  never  to  be  known  to  any  creature. 

All  methods  of  education  ought  in  general  to  be  direct- 
ed to  the  improvement  of  some  good  tendency,  or  the  cor- 
rection of  some  wrong  turn  in  the  mind.  And  that  parent, 
or  tutor,  who  thinks  of  forming  a  rational  creature,  as  he 
would  break  a  hound  or  a  colt,  by  severity  alone,  without 
endeavouring  to  rectify  the  judgment  and  bend  the  will, 
shows  himself  wholly  ignorant  of  human  nature,  and  of  the 
work  he  has  undertaken.  From  the  time  a  child  can  speak, 
it  is  capable  of  being  reasoned  with,  in  a  way  suitable  to  its 
age,  and  of  being  convinced  of  the  good  or  evil  of  its  actions, 
and  is  never  to  be  corrected  without ;  otherwise  you  may 
conclude,  that  the  effect  will  cease  with  the  smart.  A 
sense  of  honour  and  shame,  and  of  the  right  and  wrong  of 
actions,  are  the  proper  handles  of  education,  as  they  lead 
directly  to  virtue,  and  lay  a  restraint  upon  the  mind  itself. 
Punishment,  if  not  managed  with  great  judgment,  and 
administered  rather  as  a  mark  and  attendant  of  that  disgrace, 
into  which  a  youth  has  brought  himself  by  bad  behaviour, 
may  have  no  other  effect,  than  that  of  persuading  him, 
that  the  pain  is  a  great  evil,  which  he  ought  not  to  think, 
but  be  taught  to  despise  it.  Or  it  may  tend,  if  overdone, 
to  harden  and  brutalize  his  temper,  and  lead  him  to  use 
others  as  he  has  been  used.  Paltry  rewards,  as  fine  clothes 
or  playthings,  ought  likewise  never  to  be  bestowed  with- 
out a  caution,  that  they  are  given  not  as  things  valua- 
ble in  themselves,  but  only  as  marks  of  favour  and  appro- 
bation. If  this  be  not  taken  care  of,  n  child  may  be  led  to 
look  upon  such  baubles  as  the  summum  bonum  of  life, 
which  will  give  him  a  quite  wrong  turn  of  mind. 

In  chiding  or  correcting,  it  will  be  necessary  to  take 
the  utmost  care  not  to  represent  to  a  young  person  his 
fault  as  unpardonable  or  his  case  as  desperate ;  but  to 
leave  room  for  reformation ;  lest  he  think  he  has  utterly 

M 


90  OF  PRUDENCfc. 

lost  his  character  and  so  become  stupidly  indifferent  about 
recovering  your  favour,  or  amending  his  manners.  Nor 
is  the  recovery  of  any  person  under  thirty  years  of  age  to 
be  wholly  despaired  of,  where  there  is  a  fund  of  sense,  and 
an  ingenuous  temper  to  work  upon. 

A  turn  to  cruelty  appearing  in  a  child's  delighting  in 
teazing  his  equals,  in  pulling  insects  to  pieces,  and  in  tor- 
turing birds,  frogs,  cats,  or  other  animals,  ought  by  all 
means  to  be  rooted  out  as  soon  as  possible.  Children 
ought  to  be  convinced  of  what  they  are  not  generally 
aware  of,  that  an  animal  can  feel,  though  it  cannot  com- 
plain, and  that  cruelty  to  a  beast  or  insect,  is  as  much  cru- 
elty, and  as  truly  wicked,  as  when  exercised  upon  our 
own  species. 

There  are  few  children  that  may  not  be  formed  to  tract  - 
ableness  and  goodness,  where  a  parent  has  the  conscience 
to  study  carefully  his  duty  in  this  respect,  the  steadiness 
to  go  through  with  it,  and  the  sagacity  to  manage  pro- 
perly the  natural  tendencies  of  the  mind,  to  play  them 
against  one  another,  to  supply  what  may  be  defective,  to 
correct  what  may  be  wrong,  and  to  lop  off  what  may  be 
redundant. 

Let  only  a  parent  consider  with  himself  what  temper 
he  would  have  his  son  be  of,  when  a  man  ;  and  let  him 
cultivate  that  in  him,  while  a  child.  If  he  would  not  have 
him  fierce,  cruel,  or  revengeful,  let  him  take  care  early  to 
show  his  displeasure  at  every  instance  of  surliness,  or 
malice,  against  his  playfellows,  or  cruelty  to  brutes  or 
insects.  If  he  would  not  wish  him  to  prove  of  a  fretful 
and  peevish  temper,  ready  to  lose  all  patience  at  every  lit- 
tle disappointment  in  life,  let  him  take  care  from  the  first, 
not  to  humour  him  in  all  his  childish  freaks,  not  to  show 
him  that  he  can  refuse  him  nothing,  nor  especially  to  give 
him  what  he  asks,  because  he  cries  or  is  out  of  humour  for 
it,  but  for  that  very  reason  to  withhold  what  might  other- 
wise be  fit  for  him.  If  he  would  not  have  him  a  glutton, 
when  he  comes  to  be  a  man,  let  him  not  consult  his  apt- 
petite  too  much  in  his  childhood  ;  and  so  of  the  rest. 

It  is  a  most  fatal  mistake,  which  many  parents  are  in 
with  respect  to  the  important  business  of  forming  the 
moral  character  of  1  heir  children,  that  the  faults  of  chil- 
dren are  of  little  consequence.     Yet  it  is  the  very  same 


OF  PRUDENCE.  91 

disposition,  which  makes  a  child,  or  youth,  passionate, 
false,  or  revengeful,  and  which  in  the  man,  produces  mur- 
der, perjury,  and  all  the  most  atrocious  crimes.  The 
very  same  turn  of  mind  which  puts  a  child,  or  youth, 
upon  beating  his  playfellows  with  his  little  harmless  hand, 
will  afterwards,  if  not  corrected,  arm  him  with  a  sword  to 
execute  his  revenge.  How  then  can  parents  be  so  un- 
thinking as  to  connive  at,  much  more  to  encourage,  a 
wrong  turn  of  mind  in  their  children "?  At  the  same  time 
that  they  would  do  their  utmost  to  rectify  any  blemish  in 
a  feature  or  limb,  as  knowing  that  it  will  else  be  quickly 
incurable  ;  they  allow  the  mind  to  run  into  vice  and  dis- 
order, which  they  know  may  be  soon  irretrievable. 

If  your  child  threatened  to  grow  crooked,  or  deformed ; 
if  he  were  dwarfish  and  stunted  ;  if  he  were  weak  in  one 
or  more  of  his  limbs ;  or  did  not  look  with  both  eyes 
alike  ;  would  you  not  give  any  thing  in  the  world  to  have 
such  infirmity  strengthened,  or  wrong  cast  of  features  re- 
dressed !  Would  you  put  off  endeavouring  this  for  one 
day,  after  you  had  discovered  the  defect?  And  will  you 
trifle  with  a  deformity  of  infinitely  greater  consequence,  a 
blemish  in  the  mind  ?  Would  you  answer  to  any  one,  who 
advised  you  a  remedy  for  weak  hams,  or  an  arm  threaten- 
ing to  wither ;  that,  as  your  child  grew  up,  they  would 
strengthen  of  themselves,  and  therefore  it  was  needless  to 
take  any  trouble  at  present  ?  Why  then  should  you  put 
off  using  your  utmost  endeavours,  and  that  as  soon  as 
possible,  for  breaking  the  impotency  of  his  passions,  bet- 
tering his  temper,  and  strengthening  his  judgment  ?  Will 
you  say,  that,  though  your  child  is  now  at  six  years  old, 
fretful,  perverse,  crafty,  given  to  idleness,  lying,  and  dis- 
obedience ;  it  does  not  follow,  that  he  must  be  so  at 
twenty  or  thirty  ?  Why  do  you  not  likewise  persuade 
yourself,  that  he  must  outgrow  squinting,  or  a  high 
shoulder  ?  You  cannot  think  a  short  neck,  or  a  wrong 
cast  of  the  eye,  a  worse  blemish  than  a  turn  to  falsehood, 
malice,  or  revenge  ?  Yet  you  encourage  your  son,  at  three 
years  of  age,  to  vent  his  spite  upon  whatever  disobliges 
him,  even  upon  the  floor,  when  he  catches  a  fall.  He  asks 
you  what  you  have  got  in  your  hand  :  you  do  not  choose 
to  let  him  have  it ;  and  you  have  not  the  courage  to  tell 
him  so.     You  therefore  put  him  off  with  answering,  that 


§2  OF  PRUDENCE. 

it  was  nothing.  By  and  by,  he  has  laid  hold  of  some- 
what not  fit  for  him,  which  he  endeavours  to  conceal. 
You  ask  him  what  he  has  got :  Has  he  not  your  own 
example  and  authority  for  putting  you  off  with  a  shuffling 
answer  ?  He  asks  somewhat  not  fit  for  him.  You  refuse 
it ;  he-  falls  a  crying :  you  give  it  him.  Is  there  any 
surer  way  of  teaclung  him  to  make  use,  constantly,  of  the 
same  means  for  obtaining  whatever  his  wayward  will  is 
set  upon  ?  You  trick  him  up  with  tawdry  ornaments, 
and  dandle  him  about  after  all  manner  of  entertainments, 
while  he  ought  to  be  applying  to  his  improvement  in 
somewhat  useful.  Is  not  this  teaching  him,  that  finery 
and  gadding  are  the  perfection  of  life  ?  Is  not  this  planting 
in  his  mind,  with  your  own  hand,  the  seeds  of  vice  and 
folly  ?  Yet  you  would  turn  away  a  nursery  maid,  who 
should,  for  her  diversion,  teach  him  to  squint,  or  stam- 
mer, or  go  awry. 

It  is  strange,  that  parents  should  either  be  so  weak,  as 
to  look  upon  any  fault  in  the  minds  of  their  children  as  of 
little  consequence,  and  not  worth  correcting ;  or  that  they 
should  not  generally  have  the  sagacity  to  distinguish  be- 
tween those  infirmities,  which,  being  the  effects  of  unripe 
age,  must  of  course  cure  themselves,  and  those,  which, 
being  occasioned  by  a  wrong  cast  in  the  mind,  are  likely 
to  grow  stronger  and  stronger.  Thoughtlessness,  timi- 
dity, and  love  of  play,  which  are  natural  to  childhood, 
may  be  expected  to  abate  as  years  come  on.  But  it  is 
evidently  not  so  with  a  turn  to  deceit,  malice,  or  per- 
verseness. 

I  cannot  help  adding  here,  one  advice  to  parents,  which, 
if  it  should  not  be  thought  over  complaisant,  is  however 
Avell  meant.  It  is,  that  they  would  take  care  to  set  before: 
their  children  an  unexceptionable  example.  The  conse- 
quence of  a  neglect  of  this,  will  be,  that  children  will  be 
drawn  to  imitate  what  is  bad,  and  be  prevented  from  re- 
garding what  good  advice  may  be  given  them.  Do  not 
imagine  you  can  effectually  inculcate  upon  your  son  the 
virtues  of  sobriety  and  frugality,  while  he  sees  your  house 
and  your  table  the  scenes  of  luxury  and  gluttony  ;  or  that 
your  affected  grave  lessons  will  attach  him  to  purity  and 
piety,  while  your  conversation  is  interlarded  with  swear- 
ing and  obscenity ;  or  that  you  can  persuade  him  to  think 


OF  PRUDENCE.  93 

of  the  care  of  his  soul  as  the  great  concern,  while  he  sees 
that  you  live  only  to  get  money. 

Those  natural  inclinations  of  the  human  mind  ought  to 
be  encouraged  to  the  utmost  (under  proper  regulations) 
which  tend  to  put  it  upon  action  and  excelling.  Whoever 
would  wish  his  son  to  be  diligent  in  his  studies,  and  active 
in  business,  can  use  no  better  means  for  that  purpose,  than 
stirring  up  in  him  emulation,  a  desire  of  praise,  and  a 
sense  of  honour  and  shame.  Curiosity  will  put  a  youth 
upon  inquiring  into  the  nature  and  reasons  of  things,  and 
endeavouring  to  acquire  universal  knowledge.  This  pas- 
sion ought  therefore  to  be  excited  to  the  utmost,  and  gra- 
tified, even  when  it  shows  itself  by  his  asking  the  most 
childish  questions,  which  should  always  be  answered  in  as 
rational  and  satisfying  a  manner  as  possible. 

It  is  by  habit  rather  than  precept,  that  a  young  person  is 
best  formed  to  readiness  and  address  in  doing  things.  If 
your  son  hands  a  glass  or  a  tea  cup  awkwardly,  he  will 
profit  more  by  making  him  do  it  over  again,  directing  him 
how,  than  by  preaching  to  him  an  hour.  It  is  the  same  in 
scholarship,  and  in  his  behaviour  to  his  equals,  as  to  justice 
and  sincerity ;  which  shows  the  advantage  of  a  social, 
above  a  solitary  education.  Therefore,  opportunities  of 
planting  proper  habits  in  young  people  ought  to  be  sought, 
and  they  kept  doirig,  merely  that  by  practice  they  may 
come  to  do  things  well  at  last. 

On  this  head,  I  cannot  help  remarking  on  the  unhappy 
constraint  I  have  often,  with  much  sympathy,  seen  very 
young  children  put  under  before  company.  The  chiding 
lectures  I  have  heard  read  to  boys  and  girls  of  eight  or 
ten  years  of  age,  about  holding  up  of  heads,  putting  back 
shoulders,  turning  out  toes,  and  making  legs,  have,  I  am 
persuaded,  gone  a  good  way  toward  disgusting  the  poor 
children  against  what  is  called  behaviour.  Did  parents 
consider,  that,  even  in  grown  people,  the  gracefulness  of 
behaviour  consists  in  an  easy  and  natural  motion  of 
gesture,  and  looks  denoting  kindness  and  good-will  to 
those  with  whom  they  converse ;  and  that  if  a  child's 
heart  and  temper  are  formed  to  civility,  the  outward  ex- 
pressions of  it  will  come  in  all  due  time  ;  did  parents,  I 
say,  consider  these  obvious  things,  they  would  bestow 
their  chief  attention  upon  the  mind,  and  not  make  them- 


94  OF  .PRUDENCE. 

selves,  their  children,  and  their  friends,  uneasy  about 
making  courtesies,  and  legs,  twenty  times  in  a  quarter  of 
an  hour. 

The  bodily  infirmities  of  children  mav  often,  by  proper 
management,  be  greatly  helped,  if  not  wholly  cured. 
Crookedness,  for  example,  by  swinging  and  hanging  by 
tfee  arm  next  to  the  crooked  side.  Squinting,  by  specta- 
cles properly  contrived,  and  by  shooting  with  the  bow. 
A  paralytic  motion  in  the  eyes  by  the  cold  bath  and  ner- 
vous remedies.  Weakness  in  the  eyes,  by  washing  them 
in  cold  water;  and  not  sparing  them  "too  much.  Bashful- 
ness  and  blushing,  by  company  and  encouragement. 
Crookedness  in  the  legs,  by  being  swung  with  moderate 
weights  fastened  to  the  feet,  and  using  riding,  as  an  exer- 
cise, more  frequently  than  walking  ;  never  standing  for  any 
time  together;  and  by  iron  strengtheners  properly  ap- 
plied. Shooting  with  the  long  bow,  is  good  for  strength- 
ening the  chest  and  arms.  Exercise,  and  regular  hours 
of  diet  and  rest,  and  simple  food,  for  the  appetite.  Riding, 
especially  on  a  hard  trotting  horse,  is  the  first  of  exercises, 
and  a  cure  for  complaints,  which  no  medicine  in  the  dis- 
pensatory will  reach.  Stammering  is  cured  by  people 
who  profess  that  art.  And  even  dumbness  so  far  got  the 
better  of,  that  persons  born  so  are  brought  to  be  capable  of 
holding  a  sort  of  conversation  with  those  who  are  used  to 
them.  Shortness  of  the  neck,  and  stuntedness,  are  helped 
by  being  swung  in  a  neck- swing.  Almost  any  bad  habit, 
as  shrugging  the  shoulders,  nodding,  making  faces,  and  the 
like,  may  be  helped  by  continual  attention,  and  making 
the  child  do  somewhat  laborious,  or  disagreeable  to  him, 
every  time  you  catch  him  at  his  trick. 

Of  those  parts  of  education,  which  take  in  science,  I 
shall  have  occasion  to  treat  in  the  following  book. 


SECTION  VIII. 
Of  the  peculiar  Management  of  Daughters. 

FEMALE  children  being  as  much  by  nature  rational 
creatures,  as  males,  it  seems  pretty  obvious,  that,  in  bring- 
ing them  up  to  maturity,  there  is  some  regard  to  be  had 
to  the  cultivation  of  their  reason,  as  well  as  the  adorning 


OF  PRUDENCE,  95 

of  their  persons.  As  to  the  forming  of  their  tempers,  the 
directions  above  given,  will,  with  some  small  variation,  suit 
them.  As  girls  are  more  apt  to  run  into  vanity,  on  ac- 
count of  their  beauty  or  dress,  than  the  other  sex,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  guard  against  this  folly,  which,  eise,  will 
grow  with  years,  till  it  becomes  unsufferable.  And  icfter 
all,  there  is  no  doubt,  but  a  foolish  head  is  always  con- 
temptible, whether  it  be  covered  with  a  cap  or  a  wig. 
And  a  creature,  that  values  itself  only  upon  its  form,  and 
has  no  other  ambition  but  to  make  that  agreeable,  must  be 
sunk  to  a  very  low  pitch  of  understanding,  and  has  little 
pretence  to  rank  itself  with  rational  beings. 

The  proper  education  of  a  daughter,  if  a  parent  has  a 
mind  she  should  ever  be  fit  for  filling  a  place  in  society, 
and  being  a  suitable  companion  and  help  meet  for  a  man 
of  sense,  is,  first,  reading,  with  propriety  and  life ;  readi- 
ness at  her  needle,  especially  for  people  in  middling  sta- 
tions ;  a  free  command  of  her  pen,  and  complete  know- 
ledge of  numbers,  as  far  as  the  rule  called  Practice.  A 
woman  cannot,  with  ease  and  certainty,  keep  or  examine 
the  accounts  of  her  own  family,  without  these  accomplish- 
ments. The  knowledge  of  English  grammar,  or  ortho- 
graphy, is  absolutely  necessary  to  any  person  who  would 
write  to  be  read.  Without  some  acquaintance  with  geo- 
graphy and  history,  a  woman's  conversation  must  be  con- 
fined within  a  very  narrow  compass,  and  she  will  enjoy 
much  less  pleasure  in  that  of  her  husband  and  his  friends ; 
and  his  entertainment  from  her  conversation  must  likewise 
be  very  much  abridged,  if  she  can  bear  no  part  on  any  but 
the  subjects  of  fashions  or  scandal. 

Plays,  romances,  love  verses,  and  cards,  are  utter  ruin 
to  y  oung  women.  For,  if  they  find  any  entertainment  in 
them,  they  must  unavoidably  give  their  minds  a  cast, 
which  can  never  be  suitable  to  the  useful  part  of  a  female 
character,  which  is  wholly  domestic.  For,  whatever  the 
fine  ladies  of  our  age  must  think  of  the  matter,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  the  only  rational  ambition  they  can  have,  must  be 
to  make  obedient  daughters,  loving  wives,  prudent  mo- 
thers and  mistresses  of  families,  faithful  friends,  and  good 
christians  ;  characters  much  more  valuable  than  those  of 
skilful  gamesters,  fine  dancers,  singers,  or  dressers,  or  than 
even  of  wits  and  critics. 


96  OF  PRUDENCE. 

SECTION  IX. 

Of  Placing  Youth  out  Apprentices. 

THERE  are  some  grievances  with  respect  to  the  ap- 
prenticing out  of  youth  intended  for  business,  which  I 
have  long  wished  to  see  redressed.  As,  in  the  first  place, 
it  does  not  appear  to  me  necessary,  that  parents  should 
hurry  their  sons  away  from  places  of  education,  before 
they  can,  by  their  age,  be  supposed  to  be  sufficiently 
grounded  in  the  various  parts  of  useful  and  ornamental 
knowledge,  or  (which  is  of  infinitely  more  consequence) 
principled  in  virtue  and  religion,  to  place  them  out  ap- 
prentices seven  years,  to  learn  to  sell  a  piece  of  linen,  or  a 
loaf  of  sugar,  where  there  is  an  end  of  all  opportunity  of 
improvement,  except  in  business.  While  a  youth  is  at 
boarding  school,  he  lives  with  one,  who  is  to  be  supposed 
qualified  to  instruct  him,  and  conduct  his  morals,  and  who 
is  evidently  interested  to  bestow  his  best  diligence  for 
those  purposes.  Whereas,  a  merchant,  or  tradesman, 
who  does  not  depend  upon  apprentices,  as  a  master  of  a 
place  of  education  does  upon  pupils,  and  is  besides  im- 
mersed in  a  variety  of  business,  cannot  be  supposed  to 
have  it  in  his  power  or  inclination  to  give  much  attention 
to  the  conduct  of  his  apprentices.  On  these  considera- 
tions, I  say,  it  seems  unreasonable,  and  prejudicial  to 
youth,  to  be  removed,  as  they  often  are,  from  boarding 
school  at  fourteen  or  fifteen  years,  when  they  are  just  come 
to  be  capable  of  the  more  manly  and  useful  parts  of  know- 
ledge, as,  geography,  mathematics,  philosophy,  moral  and 
tfiatural,  and  the  like  ;  and  to  be  thrust  down  into  a  mer- 
chant's or  tradesman's  kitchen  among  menial  servants,  or 
let  loose  among  a  set  of  thoughtless  young  fellows  like 
themselves,  but  half  principled,  and  therefore  too  liable  to 
be  led  astray  by  every  seducer.  I  cannot  see  the  neces- 
sity of  a  youth's  being  placed  out  for  seven  years  to  learn 
the  mystery  of  buying  in,  and  selling  out,  half  a  dozen  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  goods  ;  at  the  same  time,  that  to  learn  all 
the  intricacies  of  the  business  of  an  attorney,  five  years 
clerkship  is  reckoned  sufficient. 

Having  mentioned  the  common  manner  of  entertaining 


OF  PRUDENCE.  97 

apprentices,  I  beg  leave  to  add,  that  though  I  see  no  ad- 
vantage in  treating  young  people  with  too  much  delicacy, 
vet  it  seems  absurd  to  place  the  sons  of  merchants  and 
substantial  tradesmen  with  chamber  maids  and  footmen. 
This  I  know  is  done,  where  three  or  four  hundred  pounds 
apprenticeship  is  given.  If  a  gentleman  thinks  it  a  re- 
straint upon  his  conversation,  to  have  his  apprentices  at 
his  own  table,  it  would  be  no  great  matter,  methinks,  for 
the  fathers  of  the  youth  to  allow  somewhat  extraordinary 
for  a  separate  room  and  proper  accommodations,  to  pre- 
vent their  keeping  company  with  people  beneath  them, 
from  whom  they  are  likely  to  learn  nothing  but  what  is 
mean  and  sordid. 

The  modern  way  of  life  of  our  citizens,  is  indeed  such, 
as,  generally  speaking,  to  expose  the  youth  placed  with 
them  almost  to  the  certainty  of  being  debauched,  if  not 
utterly  ruined.  The  master  and  mistress  of  the  house 
engaged  in  the  evenings  in  visiting,  receiving  visits,  at- 
tending clubs,  or  public  diversions,  or  in  short,  any  way 
but  minding  their  own  families.  And  in  the  summer  sea- 
son, out  of  town  on  Saturdays  and  Sundays  ;  some  half 
the  week  ;  while  their  apprentices  are  left  to  themselves, 
exposed  to  the  solicitations  of  the  lewd  women,  who  are 
allowed,  to  the  shame  of  law  and  magistracy,  to  invest 
every  street  in  London,  and  to  turn  the  city  into  a  great 
brothel.  The  sense  of  the  fatal  hazards  the  youth  run 
during  their  apprenticeships  in  London,  has  determined 
many  judicious  parents  of  late  years,  to  send  their  sons  to 
pass  them  in  foreign  parts,  where  the  way  of  life  of  the 
trading  people  is  different  from  what  prevails  here. 


SECTION  X. 

Of  choosing  Employments  for   Sons,  and  of  providing 
Fortunes  for  them. 

IN  order  to  a  person's  having  a  chance  for  success  and 
happiness  in  life,  it  is  necessary  that  his  parents  consult 
the  natural  bent  of  his  genius,  before  they  determine  what 
employment  to  put  him  to.;  The  neglect  of  this  most 
important  particular  has  been  the  cause  of  infinite  distress 
and  disappointment,  and  has  obliged  manv,  after  a  course 

N 


98  OF  PRUDENCE. 

of  misfortunes  and  vexations,  in  a  way  of  life  for  which 
they  have  not  been  fitted  by  nature,  to  lay  aside  their  first 
scheme  and  enter  upon  that  for  which  nature  has  intended 
them.  It  is  common  for  parents  to  resolve  to  give  their 
children  such  employments  as  suit  their  own  humour  or 
convenience,  rather  than  the  capacity  or  natural  bent  of 
the  voung  persons,  who  are  the  most  concerned  in  the 
matter  ;  to  bring  up  a  plain  honest  youth  to  law  or  physic, 
or  thrust  a  heavy,  plodding  boy  into  a  pulpit ;  to  hamper 
a  genius  behind  a  counter,  or  bury  him  among  bales  of 
goods  in  a  warehouse,  j  But  surely  no  parent  of  any  con- 
sideration can  hope  to  get  the  better  of  nature,  to  give  his 
child  qualifications  which  she  has  not  given  him,  or  to  re- 
move the  insuperable  difficulties  she  has  laid  in  the  way. 

The  tempers  of  youth  however,  may,  in  general,  be  said 
to  divide  themselves  into  two  species.  One  is  the  inquisi- 
tive, penetrating,  and  studious ;  the  other,  the  slow  and 
laborious;  both  valuable  in  their  respective  ways.  There 
are  of  these,  several  subdivisions,  I  mean  those  who  have  a 
particular  turn  to  some  single  art  or  science.  All  which 
ought  to  be  studied,  with  the  utmost  care  by  the  parent, 
and  humoured  in  the  scheme  of  life  intended  for  them. 
Had  I  a  son,  whose  natural  turn  was  to  mechanics,  I 
should  certainly  rather  put  him  apprentice  to  a  watchma- 
ker, or  a  silversmith,  in  which  I  should  think  he  could 
not  fail  to  become  eminent,  and  consequently  to  get  a  sub- 
sistence, if  he  applied  diligently  to  his  business,  than 
bring  him  up  to  a  learned  profession,  in  which  I  could 
not  expect  him  to  make  any  figure.  And  so  of  other  par- 
ticular turns. 

If  the  genius  of  a  youth  is  bright,  it  will  discover  itself 
by  its  own  native  lustre  ;  so  that  a  parent  will  be  at  no 
loss  to  determine  his  son's  particular  cast.  If  his  capacity 
is  slow,  it  will  perhaps  be  necessary  to  try  him  with  a 
variety  of  employments  and  exercises  ;  and  as  it  is  found 
that  almost  every  rational  creature  lias  a  turn  for  some- 
what, and  is  by  nature  fitted  for  some  place  or  other  in 
society,  a  little  time  and  attention  will  discover  what  a  pa- 
rent searches  for. 

Whatever  the  pride  of  parents  may  suggest,  it  is  plain 
from  observation,  that  great  vivacity  and  brightness  of 
pans  in  our  sex,  as  well  as  extraordinary  beauty  or  wit  in 


OF  PRUDENCE.  99 

the  other,  do  in  fact  often  prove  fatal  to  both  ;  as  they  na- 
turally tend  to  fill  the  heads  of  those  who  are  possessed  of 
them,"  with  vanity  and  ambition,  and  to. put  them  upon 
romantic  projects,  which  take  off  their  attention  from  the 
serious  business  of  life.  Not  but  that  men  of  the  finest 
parts  are  sometimes  found  as  steady  and  prudent  in  the 
management  of  their  affairs,  as  the  dull  and  plodding ;  some 
of  which,  likewise,  are  found  to  grovel  all  their  lives  long 
in  poverty  and  obscurity.  But,  generally  speaking,  it  is 
otherwise.  So  that  a  parent,  who  has  reason  to  look  upon 
his  son,  as  one  who  promises  to  make  a  figure  by  his 
parts,  ought  to  be  humble  and  cautious  ;  for  when  such 
fly  out,  they  go  dreadful  lengths  in  vice  or  folly  ;  as,  on 
the  other  hand,  if  a  parent's  prospects,  with  regard  to  his 
son's  natural  abilities,  be  less  pleasing,  he  is  not  there  fore 
to  despair  of  making  him  fit  for  some  useful  and  vale  able 
station  in  life. 

1  It  is  a  very  great  mistake  some  parents  run  into,  that 
the  greatest  kindness  they  can  do  their  children  is  to  give 
them,  or  leave  them  a  great  fortune.  With  this  view 
some  labour  and  toil  all  their  lives,  pinching  themselves, 
and  their  families,  and  grudging  their  children  an  educa- 
tion suitable  to  their  fortunes,  only  to  heap  up  an  enor- 
mous capital,  which  is  likely  to  be  dissipated  in  much  less 
time  than  it  cost  to  amass  it.  ) 

If  a  young  gentleman  is  to  inherit  a  large  estate,  with- 
out a  suitable  education,  his  great  fortune  will  only  make 
him  the  more  extensively  known  and  despised.  And,  if 
his  prospects  in  life  be  meaner,  he  will  have  the  more  oc- 
casion for  an  universal  education  to  give  him  a  chance  for 
raising  himself  in  the  world.  Experience  shows  that  it  is 
not,  in  fact,  those  who  have  set  out  in  life  with  large  capi- 
tals, that  live  happiest,  and  hold  out  longest  in  credit.  One 
half  of  such  traders,  on  the  strength  of  their  large  fortunes 
and  extensive  credit,  run  into  the  fatal  error  of  over  trad- 
ing, and  the  other  into  expensive  living.  Whereas,  a 
young  man,  who  has  been  prudently  educated,  and  pro- 
vided, by  his  parents,  with  a  fortune  sufficient  for  setting 
him  on  foot  in  business,  knowing  that  he  has  no  superflu- 
ous wealth  to  trust  to,  and  consequently,  that  he  must  by 
frugality,  industry  and  prudence,  think  to  raise  himself, 
tt'ill  be  likely  to  apply  with  steadiness  and  diligence,  to  his 


100  OF  PRUDKNC& 

business ;  of  which  he  will,  in  the  end,  reap  the  fruits.  And 
if  it  should  happen,  in  spite  of  his  utmost  care  and  pru- 
dence, that  he  should  come  to  misfortunes,  which  I  be- 
lieve, no  parent  will  pretend  to  insure  his  son  against,  a 
well  accomplished  man  is  not  likely  ever  to  be  long  desti- 
tute of  a  subsistence.  Upon  the  whole,  it  is  the  greatest 
weakness  a  man  of  substance  can  fall  into,  to  cramp  his 
soil's  education  for  the  sake  of  adding  a  few  hundred 
pounds  to  his  fortune.  For  it  is  not  a  few  hundred  pounds 
that  will  support  him,  when  the  bulk  of  his  fortune  is 
gone :  but  an  useful  education  will  enable  him  to  get  a 
subsistence,  when  the  whole  of  his  paternal  fortune  is 
jrone. 


SECTION  XI. 
Of  settling  Children,  of  both  Sexes,  in  life. 

WHEN  a  parent  has  in  this  manner  equipped  out  his 
son  with  a  proper  education,  and  settled  him  in  a  way  of 
living,  if  he  has  a  fair  opportunity,  it  will  be  his  wisdom 
to  see  him,  in  his  own  lifetime,  likewise  settled  in  mar- 
riage. It  is  on  all  accounts  the  safest  and  best  state.  And 
a  man  is  always  less  likely  to  break  loose  from  virtue  af- 
ter he  has  entered  into  a  settled  way  of  life,  than  before. 

What  I  have  said  of  a  son,  may  be  urged  with  still 
more  reason  with  respect  to  a  daughter.  It  may  often  be 
much  more  prudent  to  give  away  a  daughter  in  marriage 
on  an  indifferent  offer,  I  mean  as  to  circumstances  of 
wealth,  than  to  let  slip  an  opportunity  of  seeing  her  placed 
out  of  harm's  way.  But  no  consideration  will  make  up 
for  the  unhappiness  she  will  be  doomed  to,  if  she  falls  into 
the  hands  of  a  morose,  a  furious,  a  drunken,  a  debauched, 
a  spendthrift,  or  a  jealous  husband.  If  a  man  may  be 
said  to  have  shaken  hands  with  happiness,  who  has  thrown 
himself  into  the  arms  of  a  bad  woman,  much  less  reason 
has  a  weak,  helpless  woman  to  expect  ever  to  see  a  happy 
day,  after  she  comes  into  the  power  of  a  man  void  of  vir- 
tue or  humanity.  Let  those  parents,  therefore,  who  con- 
strain their  children,  for  the  sake  of  sordid  views,  to 
plunge  themselves  into  irretrievable  misery,  consider  what 
they  have  to  answer  for,   in  doing  an  injury,  which  they 


OP  PRUDENXE.  101 

never  can  repair,  to  those  whose  real  happiness  they  were, 
by  all  the  tics  of  nature  and  reason,  bound  to  promote. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  what  is  here  said  of  the  danger  of  con- 
straining the  inclinations  of  children  in  marriage,  will  by 
no  means  be  construed,  as  if  intended  to  encourage  young 
people  to  obstinacy  and  contempt  of  the  advice  of  parents 
in  making  a  choice  for  life. 


SECTION  XII. 
Of  retiring  from  Business. 

AS  on  the  one  hand,  it  is  odious  for  a  man  of  an  over- 
grown fortune  to  go  on  in  business  to  a  great  age,  still 
striving  to  increase  a  heap  already  larger  than  is  necessa- 
ry, to  the  prejudice  of  younger  people,  who  ought  to  have 
a  clear  stage,  and  opportunity  of  making  their  way  in  life  ; 
so  it  is  vain  for  a  person,  who  has  spent  his  days  in  an  ac- 
tive sphere,  to  think  of  enjoying  retirement,  before  the 
time  of  retirement  be  come.  He  who  resolves  at  once  to 
change  his  way  of  life,  from  action  to  retirement,  or  from 
one  state  to  another  directly  contrary,  without  being  pre- 
pared for  it  by  proper  age  and  habit,  for  some  continuance 
of  time,  will  find,  that  he  will  no  sooner  have  quitted  his 
former  way  of  life,  than  he  will  desire  to  be  in  it  again. 

It  is  on  this,  as  well  as  other  accounts,  of  great  advan- 
tage, that  a  man  have  acquired  some  turn  to  reading,  and 
the  more  sober  entertainments  of  life,  in  his  earlier  days. 
There  is  not  a  much  more  deplorable  sort  of  existence,  than 
that  which  is  dragged  on  by  an  old  man,  whose  mind  is 
unfurnished  with  the  materials  proper  for  yielding  him 
some  entertainment  suitable  to  the  more  sedate  time  of 
life  ;  I  mean  useful  knowledge.  For  the  remembrance 
of  fifty  years  spent  in  scraping  of  money,  or  in  pursuing 
pleasure,  or  in  indulging  vicious  inclinations,  must  yield 
but  poor  entertainment  at  a  time  of  life,  when  a  man  can 
at  best  say,  he  has  been. 


102  OF  PRUDENXE. 

SECTION  XIII. 
Of  disposing  of  Effects  by  Will. 

IT  is  a  strange  weakness  in  some  people,  to  be  averse 
to  making  their  wills,  and  disposing  of  their  effects,  while 
they  are  in  good  health,  and  have  ease  of  mind,  and  a  sound 
judgment  to  do  it  in  a  proper  manner;  as  if  a  man  must 
certainly  die  soon  after  he  has  made  his  will.  It  is  highly 
proper  that  people,  who  have  any  thing  considerable  to 
leave,  should  settle  their  affairs  in  such  a  distinct  manner, 
that  their  intentions  may  appear  plain  and  indisputable, 
and  their  heirs  may  not  have  an  endless  and  vexatious 
lawsuit,  instead  of  a  fortune. 

For  this  purpose  I  would  advise,  that  a  gentleman,  at 
his  leisure,  draw  up  a  sketch  of  his  will,  leaving  the  names 
of  the  legatees,  and  the  sums,  blank,  if  he  chooses  to  con- 
ceal  either  the  state  of  his  affairs,  or  the  persons  he  intends 
to  benefit  at  his  death.  This  draught  he  may  have  exa- 
mined by  those  who  are  judges  of  such  matters  ;  so  that 
he  may  be  quite  easy  as  to  the  condition  he  leaves  his  wife 
and  children,  or  other  relations  in. 

The  calamity  in  which  a  widow  and  orphans  are  involv- 
ed, who,  through  some  quirk  of  law,  or  the  omission  of 
some  necessary  formality,  find  themselves  disappointed  of 
their  whole  dependence,  and  have  the  mortification  to  see 
an  heir  at  law  (to  the  shame  of  law)  seize  on  what  the  de- 
ceased intended  for  their  support ;  the  circumstances,  I 
say,  of  a  family  thus  plunged  into  want  and  misery,  from 
the  fairest  expectations,  are  to  the  last  degree  deplorable. 

A  man  ought  to  consider  that  it  is  a  tender  point  for  an 
affectionate  wife  to  touch  upon,  and  ought  to  spare  her  the 
trouble  of  soliciting  him  upon  this  head.  For  it  must  be 
no  easy  state  of  mind  a  woman  must  be  in,  who  considers 
that  she  and  her  children  depend,  for  their  daily  bread,  up- 
on the  slender  thread  of  the  life  of  an  husband,  who  at  the 
same  time  has  it  in  his  power  to  secure  her  effectually,  by 
-taking  only  a  very  little  trouble. 

It  is  an  unjust  and  absurd  practice  of  many,  in  disposing 
of  their  effects  by  will,  to  show  such  excessive  partiality 
to  some  of  their  children  beyond  others.  To  leave  to  an 
eldest  son  the  whole  estate,  and  to  each  of  the  other  chil- 


OF  PRUDENCE.  10£ 

dren,  perhaps  one  year's  rent.  The  consequence,  indeed, 
of  this  is  often,  that  the  heir,  finding  himself  in  possession 
of  an  estate,  concludes  he  shall  never  be  able  to  run  it  out; 
and  may  be  got,  through  extravagance,  just  within  sight 
of  want,  by  the  time  his  industrious  brothers,  who,  having 
no  such  funds  to  trust  to,  were  obliged  to  exert  themselves, 
have  got  estates,  or  are  in  a  fair  way  toward  them.  This, 
1  say,  is  a  common  consequence  of  the  unequal  distribu- 
tion of  estates.  But,  whatever  the  consequence  be,  it 
seems  pretty  evident,  that  to  treat  so  very  differently,  those 
who  are  alike  our  offspring,  cannot  be  strictly  just. 

It  proves  often  a  fatal  error  in  the  disposal  of  effects  for 
the  benefit  of  one's  family,  to  leave  them  in  the  hands  of 
any  private  person  whatever,  especially  of  one  who  has  con- 
cerns in  trade.  The  state  of  such  a  one's  affairs,  must, 
by  the  very  course  of  trade,  be  so  liable  to  change,  that  no 
money  can  be  absolutely  safe  which  he  can  lay  his  hands 
upon.  We  see  every  day  instances  of  the  failure  of  tra- 
ders, who  have  generally  passed  for  men  of  first  rate  for- 
tunes, and  often  see  young  families  ruined  by  their  ruin. 
If  it  be  plain  that  the  public  funds  are,  at  least,  a  more 
probable  security  than  any  private,  one  would  think  it  na- 
tural to  fix  upon  the  best,  since  even  the  best  is  not  too 
secure. 


SECTION  XIV. 

Of  Old  Age. 

WHEN  people  draw  towards  old  age,  the  infirmities 
of  nature,  joined  with  the  various  ills  of  life,  become  more 
and  more  grievous  ;  and  strength  of  mind  continually  de- 
caying, the  burden  becomes  at  last  hardly  supportable. 
To  wave,  for  the  present,  all  moral  or  religious  consider- 
ations, I  will  only  observe,  that,  if  one  would,  in  any 
period  of  life,  or  under  any  distress  whatever,  desire  to 
have  his  grievances  as  tolerable  as  possible,  there  is  no 
surer  means  for  that  end,  than  to  endeavour  to  preserve  an 
equal,  composed,  and  resigned  temper  of  mind.  To 
struggle,  and  fret,  and  rage  at  every  misfortune  or  hard- 
ship, is  tearing  open  the  wound,  and  making  it  fester. 
Composing  the  mind  to  contentment  and  patience  is  the 


104  OF  PRUDENCE. 

most  likely  means  to  heal  it  up.  It  is,  therefore,  obvious 
what  conduct  prudence  directs  to  in  the  case  of  distress  or 
hardship. 

But  in  what  light  docs  this  show  the  prudence  of  many 
people?  Do  we  not  see,  that  they  who  have  no  consider- 
able real  distresses  in  life  to  struggle  with,  take  care  to 
make  themselves  miserable,  by  mustering  up  imaginary, 
or  heightening  inconsiderable  misfortunes?  Does  not  a 
courtier,  in  the  midst  of  afiluence,  and  with  independence 
in  his  power,  make  himself  as  unhappy  about  a  cold  look 
from  the  minister,  as  a  poor  tradesman  is  at  the  loss  of 
his  principal  customer  ?  Is  not  a  fine  lady  as  much  dis- 
tressed, if  her  lap-dog  has  a  fit  of  the  cholic,  as  a  poor 
woman  about  the  sickness  of  a  child  ?  Such  imaginary 
unfortunates  complain  heavily  of  the  afflictions  of  life, 
while  neither  labours  under  any  worth  mentioning  but 
what  are  of  their  own  making. 

When  people  have  all  their  lives  allowed  themselves  to 
give  way  to  foolish  discontent  and  uneasiness,  it  is  no 
wonder,  if  when  they  come  to  old  age,  they  find  them- 
selves unhappy,  and  by  their  peevishness  make  all  about 
them  unhappy,  and  put  it  in  their  hearts  to  wish  them  well 
out  of  the  world. 

The  art  of  growing  old  with  a  good  grace  is  none  of 
the  least  considerable  in  life.  In  order  to  this,  it  is  abso- 
lutely necessary,  that  a  man  have  spent  the  former  part  of 
his  days  in  a  manner  consistent  with  reason  and  religion. 
He  who  has  passed  his  life  wholly  in  secular  pursuits,  in 
grasping  at  riches,  in  aspiring  after  preferments,  in  amus- 
ing himself  in  show  and  ostentation,  in  wallowing  in  sensu- 
ality and  voluptuousness,  what  foundation  has  he  laid  for 
passing  old  age  with  dignity  ?  What  is  more  universal ly 
despised  than  an  old  man,  whose  mind,  unstored  with 
knowledge,  and  unaffected  with  a  sense  of  goodness,  still 
grovels  after  the  objects  of  sense,  still  hankers  after  the 
scenes  which  formerly  engaged  him ;  scenes  of  vanity  and 
folly  in  any  age,  but  in  the  graver  part  of  life,  unnatural 
and  monstrous?  Yet  there  is  nothing  more  certain  (for 
universal  experience  confirms  it)  than  that,  according  as  a 
person  lias  formed  his  mind  in  the  younger  part  of  life, 
such  it  will  be  to  the  last.  The  ruling  passion  seldom 
fails,  till  all  fails,     He  who  has  made  the  bottle  his  chief 


OF  PRUDENCE.  105 

delight,  will  drink  on  even  when  he  has  hardly  breath  to 
swallow  a  glass  of  wine.  The  impure  letcher  will  creep 
after  his  mistress,  when  his  knees  knock  together.  The 
miser,  who  has  all  his  life  made  riches  his  god,  will  be 
scrambling  after  the  wealth  of  this  world,  with  one  foot  in 
the  other.  "The  vain  coquet  will  show  affectation,  when  she 
can  no  longer  move  any  passion  but  pity.  The  brainless 
card-player  will  waste  the  last  lawful  remains  of  life  in  an 
amusement  unworthy  of  the  most  considerate  age.  Even 
when  all  is  over,  how  do  we  see  many  old  people  in  their 
conversation  dwell  with  pleasure  on  the  vanities,  and  even 
the  vices  of  their  younger  day s  ? 

How  should  it  be  otherwise  than  that  the  mind,  which 
has  been  for  fifty  years  together  constantly  bent  one  way, 
should  preserve  to  the  end,  the  cast  it  has  received  and 
kept  so  long  ?  In  the  same  manner,  those  who  have  been 
so  wise,  as  to  view  life  in  its  proper  light,  as  a  transient 
'state,  to  be  temperately  enjoyed  while  it  lasts ;  who  have 
improved  their  minds  with  knowledge,  and  enriched  them 
with  virtue  and  piety ;  have  qualified  themoelveo  foi  acting 
the  last  concluding  scene  with  the  same  propriety  as  the 
rest.  To  such,  their  finding  themselves  unequal  to  the 
active  or  the  gaver  scenes  of  life,  is  no  manner  of  morti- 
fication. Indifferent  to  them,  while  engaged  in  them, 
they  quit  them  with  indifference  ;  sure  to  find  in  retire, 
ment  a  fund  of  the  noblest  entertainment  from  sober  and 
wise  conversation,  from  reading,  and  from  views  of  that 
future  world,  for  which  the  conscience  of  a  well-spent  life 
assures  them  of  their  being  in  a  state  of  preparation.  Use- 
ful by  their  wise  and  pious  conversation  while  they  live, 
they  go  off  the  stage  lamented,  leaving  behind  them  the 
sweet  savour  of  a  good  name,  and  the  universal  approba- 
tion of  the  wise  and  good. 

SECTION  XV. 

Of  the  Dignity  of  Female  Life,  prudentially  considered. 

WITHOUT  the  general  concurrence  of  both  sexes,  in 
a  prudent  and  virtuous  conduct,  the  perfection  of  human 
nature  is  not  to  be  attained.  The  influence  which  the 
fair  sex  have,  and  ought  to  have  in  life,  is  so  great,  that 

O 


106  OF  PRUDENCE. 

their  good  behaviour  can  give  a  general  turn  to  the  face 
of  human  affairs ;  and  a  great  deal  more  than  is  com- 
monly imagined  depends  upon  their  discretion  ;  since  (to 
say  nothing  of  their  influence  over  our  sex,  in  the  charac- 
ters of  mistresses  and  wives)  the  minds  of  the  whole  species 
receive  their  first  cast  from  womankind. 

The  dignity  of  female  life,  exclusive  of  what  is  com- 
mon to  both  sexes,  consists  in  an  equal  mixture  of  the 
reserve  with  benevolence  in  the  virgin  state,  and  affec- 
tion and  submission  in  that  of  marriage ;  a  diligent  atten- 
tion to  the  forming  of  the  tempers  of  children  of  both 
sexes  in  their  earliest  years,  (for  that  lies  wholly  upon  the 
mother)  and  the  whole  education  of  the  daughters  :  for  I 
know  of  none  so  proper  for  young  ladies  as  a  heme  edu- 
cation. 

The  greatest  errors  and  dangers  to  be  avoided  by  ladies, 
are  comprehended  in  the  following  paragraphs. 

Vanity  in  womankind,  is,  if  possible,  more  absurd  than 
in  the  other  sex.  Men  have  bodily  strength,  authority, 
learning,  ^d  such  like  pretences,  for  puffing  themselves 
up  with  pride  :  But  woman's  only  peculiar  boast  is 
beauty.  For  virtue  and  good  sense  are  never  the  subject* 
of  vanity. 

There  is  no  endowment  of  less  consequence  than  ele- 
gance of  form  and  outside.  A  mass  of  flesh,  blood,  hu- 
mours, and  impurities,  covered  over  with  a  well  coloured 
skin,  is  the  definition  of  beautv.  Whether  is  this  more 
properly  a  matter  of  vanity,  or  of  mortification  ?  Were  it 
incomparably  more  excellent  than  it  is,  nothing  can  be 
more  absurd,  than  to  be  proud  of  what  one  lias  had  no 
manner  of  hand  in  procuring,  but  is  wholly  the  gift  of 
heaven.  A  woman  may  as  reasonably  be  proud  of  the 
lilies  of  the  field,  or  the  tulips  of  the  garden,  as  of  the 
beauty  of  her  own  face.  They  are  both  the  works  of  the 
same  hand  ;  equally  out  of  human  power  to  give,  or  to 
preserve  ;  equally  trifling  and  despicable,  when  compared 
with  what  is  substantially  excellent  ;  equally  frail  and 
perishing, 

Affectation  is  a  vice  capable  of  disgracing  beauty  more 
than  pimples,  or  the  small-pox.  I  have  often  seen  ladies 
in  public  places,  of  the  most  exquisite  forms,  render 
themselves,  by  fetation  and  visible  conceit,  too  odious 


OF  PRUDENCE.  107 

to  be  looked  at  without  disgust ;  who,  by  a  modest  and 
truly  female  behaviour,  might  have  commanded  the  ad- 
miration of  every  eye.  But  I  shall  say  the  less  upon  this 
head,  in  consideration,  that  it  is,  generally  speaking,  to 
our  sex,  that  female  affectation  is  to  be  charged.  A  wo- 
man cannot  indeed  become  completely  foolish,  or  vicious, 
without  our  assistance. 

Talkativeniss  in  either  sex  is  generally  a  proof  of  vanity 
and  folly,  but  is  in  womankind,  especially  in  company 
with  men,  and  above  all,  with  men  of  understanding  and 
learning,  wholly  out  of  character,  and  peculiarly  disagree- 
able to  people  of  sense. 

If  we  appeal  either  to  reason,  scripture,  or  universal 
consent,  we  shall  find  a  degree  of  submission  to  the  male 
sex,  to  be  an  indispensible  part  of  the  female  character. 
And  to  set  up  for  an  equality  with  the  sex  to  which  na- 
ture has  given  the  advantage,  and  formed  for  authority  and 
action,  is  opposing  nature,  which  is  never  done  innocently,, 

The  great  hazard  run  by  the  female  sex,  and  the  point 
in  which  their  prudence  or  weakness  appears  most  con- 
spicuous, is  in  love  matters.  To  a  woman's  conduct  with 
regard  to  the  other  sex,  is  owing,  more  than  to  all  other 
things,  the  happiness  or  misery  of  her  existence  in  this 
world  ;  for  I  am  at  present  only  considering  things  in  a 
prudential  light. 

A  woman  cannot  act  an  imprudent  part  in  listening  to 
the  proposal  of  a  lover,  whether  of  the  honourable  or  dis- 
honourable kind,  without  bringing  nerself  to  ruin  irre- 
trievable. If  she  does  but  seem  to  hear  with  patience  the 
wanton  seducer,  her  fame  is  irrecoverably  blasted,  and  her 
value  for  ever  sunk.  The  mere  suspicion  of  guilt,  or  even 
of  inclination,  soils  her  reputation  ;  and  such  is  the  deli- 
cacy of  virgin  purity,  that  a  puff  of  foul  breath  stains  it ; 
and  all  the  streams  that  flow  will  not  restore  its  former 
lustre.  Nothing  therefore  can  exceed  the  folly  of  so 
much  as  hearing  one  sigh  of  the  dishonourable  lover :  His 
raptures  are  only  the  expressions  of  his  impure  desire. 
His  admiration  of  the  beautiful  and  innocent,  is  only  the 
effect  of  eagerness  to  gratify  his  filthy  passion,  by  the  ruin 
of  beauty  and  innocence.  He  pretends  to  love  :  But  so 
may  the  wolf  declare  his  desire  to  devour  the  lamb.  Both 
love  their  prey ;  but  it  is  only  to  destroy. 


108  OF  PRUDENCE. 

Again,  with  respect  to  honourable  proposals,  prudence 
will  suggest  to  a  woman,  that  the  hazard  she  runs  in 
throwing  herself  away,  is  incomparably  more  desperate 
than  that  of  the  other  sex,  who  have  every  advantage  for 
bettering,  or  bearing  their  afflictions  of  every  kind.  The 
case  of  the  man,  who  is  unhappily  married,  is  calamitous  ; 
but  that  of  the  woman,  who  has  a  bad  husband,  is  desperate, 
and  incurable,  but  by  death. 

If  there  be  any  general  rule  for  ladies  to  judge  of  the 
characters  of  men,  who  offer  them  proposals  of  marriage, 
it  may  be,  to  find  out  what  figure  they  make  among  their 
sex.  It  is  to  be  supposed  that  men  are  generally  quali- 
fied to  judge  of  one  another's  merits  ;  and  as  our  sex  are 
accustomed  to  less  delicacy  and  reserve  than  the  other,  it 
is  not  impossible  to  come  at  men's  real  characters,  espe- 
cially with  regard  to  their  tempers  and  dispositions,  upon 
which  the  happiness  of  the  married  life  depends,  more 
than  upon  capacity,  learning,  or  wealth. 

Too  great  a  delight  in  dress  and  finery,  besides  the  ex- 
pense of  time  and  money,  which  they  occasion,  in  some 
instances,  to  a  degree  beyond  all  bounds  of  decency  and 
common  sense,  tend  naturally  to  sink  a  woman  to  the 
lowest  pitch  of  contempt  among  all  those,  of  either  sex, 
who  have  capacity  enough  to  put  two  thoughts  together. 
A  creature  who  spends  its  whole  time  in  dressing,  gam- 
ing, prating,  and  gadding,  is  a  being  originally  indeed  of 
the  rational  make ;  but,  who  has  sunk  itself  beneath  its 
rank,  and  is  to  be  ttmsidered,  at  present,  as  nearly  on  a 
level  with  the  monkey  species. 


SECTION  XVI. 
Miscellaneous  Thoughts  on  Prudence  in  Action. 

TO  pursue  worthy  ends,  by  wise  means,  is  the  whole 
of  active  prudence.  And  this  must  be  done  with  reso- 
lution, diligence,  and  perseverance,  till  the  point  is  gained, 
or  appears  impracticable. 

To  retort  an  injury,  is  to  be  almost  as  bad  as  the  ag- 
gressor. When  two  throw  dirt  against  one  another,  can 
either  keep  himself  clean  ? 

Action  and  contemplation  are  no  way  inconsistent  ; 


OF  PRUDENXE.  309 

but  rather  reliefs  to  one  another.  When  you  are  engaged 
in  study,  throw  business  out  of  your  thoughts.  When  in 
business,  think  of  your  business  only. 

To  a  man  of  business,  knowledge  is  an  ornament.  To 
a  studious  man,  action  is  a  relief. 

If  vou  ever  promise  at  all,  take  care,  at  least,  that  it  be 
so  as  nobody  may  suffer  by  trusting  to  you. 

If  you  have  debtors,  let  not  your  lenity  get  the  better 
of  your  prudence ;  nor  your  care  of  your  own  interest 
make  vou  forget  humanity.  A  prison  is  not  for  the  un- 
fortunate, but  the  knavish. 

Tractableness  to  advice,  and  firmness  against  tempta- 
tion are  no  way  inconsistent. 

There  is  more  true  greatness  in  generously  owning  a 
fault,  and  making  proper  reparation  for  it,  than  in  obsti  • 
nately  defending  a  wrong  conduct.  But,  quiting  your 
purpose,  retreat  rather  like  a  lion  than  a  cur. 

A  mind  hardened  against  affliction,  and  a  body  against 
pain  and  sickness,  are  the  two  securities  of  earthly  hap- 
piness. 

Let  a  person  find  out  his  own  peculiar  weakness,  and 
be  ever  suspicious  of  himself  on  that  side.  Let  a  passion- 
ate man,  for  example,  resolve  always  to  show  less  resent- 
ment than  reason  might  justify  ;  there  is  no  danger  of  his 
erring  on  that  side.  Let  a  talkative  man  resolve  always  to 
say  less  than  the  most  talkative  person  in  the  company  he 
is  in.  If  one  has  reason  to  suspect  himself  of  loving  mo- 
ney too  much,  let  him  give  always,  at  least,  somewhat 
more  than  has  been  given  by  a  noted  miser. 

A  man  who  does  not  know  in  general  his  own  weak- 
ness, must  either  be  a  person  of  high  rank,  or  a  fool. 

How  comes  it  that  we  judge  so  severely  the  actions  we 
did  a  great  while  ago.  It  is  because  we  are  now  at  a  pro- 
per distance,  and  look  upon  them  with  an  indifferent  eve, 
as  on  those  of  another  person.  The  very  objects  which 
now  employ  us  so  much,  and  the  conduct  we  now  justify 
so  strenuously,  can  we  say,  that  the  time  will  not  come 
when  we  shall  look  upon  them  as  we  now  do  upon  our 
follies  of  ten  or  twenty  vears  backwards  ?  Whv  can  we 
not  view  ourselves,  and  our  own  behaviour,  at  all  times 
in  the  same  manner  ?  This  shows  our  partiality  for  our- 
selves, in  a  most  absurd  light. 


110  OF  PRUDENCE. 

When  you  are  dead,  the  letters  which  compose  yout 
name  will  be  no  more  to  you  than  the  rest  of  the  alphabet. 
Leave  the  rage  of  fame  to  wits  and  heroes.  Do  you  strive 
to  live  usefully  in  this  world,  and  you  will  be  happy  in 
the  next. 

It  is  best  if  you  can  keep  quite  clear  of  the  great.  But 
if  you  happen  at  any  time  to  be  thrust  into  their  company, 
keep  up  in  your  behaviour  to  them  the  dignity  of  a  man  of 
spirit  and  worth,  which  is  the  only  true  greatness.  If  you 
sneak  and  cringe,  they  v.  ill  trample  upon  you. 

Beware  of  mean  spirited  people.  They  are  commonly 
revengeful  and  malicious. 

The  following  advantages  are  likely  to  make  a  com- 
pletely accomplished  man.  1.  Good  natural  parts.  2. 
A  good  temper.  3.  Good  and  general  education,  begun 
early.  4.  Choice,  not  immense,  reading,  and  careful  di- 
gesting. 5.  Experience  of  various  fortunes.  6.  Con- 
versation with  men  of  letters  and  of  business.  7.  Know- 
ledge of  the  world,  gained  by  conversation,  business, 
and  travel. 

If  the  world  suspect  your  well  intended  designs,  be 
not  uneasy.  It  only  shows  that  mankind  are  themselves 
false  and  artful,  which  is  the  cause  of  their  being  sus- 
picious. 

Never  set  up  for  a  jack-in-an-office.  Men  of  real 
worth  are  modest,  and  decline  employment,  though  much 
fitter  for  it  than  those  who  thrust  themselves  forward. 
But  if  good  can  be  done,  do  it,  if  no  one  else  will. 

How  much  less  trouble  it  costs  a  well  disposed  mind 
to  pardon,  than  to  revenge  ! 

If  your  enemy  is  forced  to  have  recourse  to  a  lie  to 
blacken  you,  consider  what  a  comfort  it  is  to  think  of  your 
having  supported  such  a  character,  as  to  render  it  impos- 
sible for  malice  to  hurt  you  without  the  aid  of  falsehood. 
And  trust  to  the  genuine  fairness  of  your  character  to 
clear  itself  in  the  end. 

Whoever  has  gone  through  much  of  life,  must  remem- 
ber, that- he  has  thrown  away  a  great  deal  of  useless  un- 
easiness upon  what  was  much  worse  in  his  apprehension, 
than  in  reality. 

A  miser  will  sometimes  serve  you  any  way  you  please 
to  ask  him,  purely  to  save  his  money. 


OF  PRUDENCE.  Hi 

If  you  give  away  nothing  till  you  die,  even  your  own 
children  will  hardly  thank  you  for  what  you  leave  them. 

A  great  number  of  small  favours  will  engage  some  peo- 
ple more  to  you,  than  one  great  one.  And  where  they 
hope  for  more  and  more,  they  will  be  willing  to  go  on  to 
serve  you. 

An  idle  person  is  dead  before  his  time. 

The  great  difficulty  of  behaviour  is  in  case  of  surprise. 

The  truest  objects  of  charity  are  those  whom  modesty 
conceals. 

A  generous  man  does  not  lose  by  a  generous  man. 

It  will  be  a  great  misfortune  to  you,  if  an  intimate 
friend,  or  near  relation,  falls  into  poverty.  You  must  either 
lend  your  assistance,  or  be  ill  looked  upon.  And  people 
are  often  blamed  for  niggardliness,  when,  if  all  the  truth 
were  known,  (which  might  be  very  improper)  they  would 
be  justified  in  having  given  to  the  full  extent  of  their 
abilities. 

A  man's  character  and  behaviour  in  public,  and  at 
home,  are  often  as  different  as  a  lady's  looks  at  a  ball,  and 
in  a  morning  before  she  has  gone  through  the  ceremony  of 
the  toilet.  But  real  merit,  like  artless  beauty,  shines 
forth  at  all  times  distinguishingly  illustrious. 

There  is  nothing  more  agreeable  to  human  nature  than 
to  have  somewhat  moderately  to  employ  both  mind  and 
body.  There  is  nothing  more  unnatural,  than  for  a  crea- 
ture endowed  with  various  active  powers,  to  be  wholly 
inactive.  Hence  the  silly  and  mischievous  inventions  of 
cards,  dice,  and  other  amusements,  which  empty  people 
have  been  obliged  to  have  recourse  to,  as  a  kind  of  artifi- 
cial employment,  to  prevent  human  nature  from  sinking 
into  an  absolute  lethargy.  Why  might  not  our  luxurious 
wasters  of  heaven's  most  inestimable  gift,  as  well  employ 
the  same  eagerness  of  activity  in  somewhat  that  might 
turn  to  account  to  themselves  and  others,  as  in  the  insipid 
and  unprofitable  drudgery  of  the  card-table  ? 

To  serve  your  friends  to  your  own  ruin,  is  romantic. 
To  think  of  none  but  yourself,  is  sordid. 

Riches  and  happiness  have  nothing  to  do  with  one  ano- 
ther, though  extreme  poverty  and  misery  be  nearly 
related. 

Judge  of  yourself  by  that  respect  you  have  voluntarily 


\\0  OF  PRUDENCE. 

paid  you  by  men  of  undoubted  integrity  and  discernment, 
and  who  have  no  interest  to  flatter  you.  Act  up  to  your 
character.  Support  your  dignity.  But  do  not  make 
yourself  unhappy,  if  you  meet  not  with  the  honour  you 
deserve  from  those  whose  esteem  no  one  values. 

Despise  trifling  affronts,  and  they  will  vanish.  A  little 
water  will  put  out  a  fire,  which,  blown  up,  would  burn 
a  city. 

Give  away  what  you  can  part  with.  Throw  away 
nothing  :  you  know  not  how  much  you  may  miss  it. 

Provide  for  aft<T-life,  so  as  to  enjoy  the  present.  Enjoy 
the  present,  so  as  to  leave  a  provision  for  the  time  to  come. 

Avoid  too  many  and  great  obligations.  It  is  running 
into  debt  beyond  what  you  may  be  able  to  pay. 

Conclude  at  least  nine  parts  in  ten  of  what  is  handed 
about  by  common  fame  to  be  false. 

Wealth  is  a  good  servant,  but  a  bad  master. 

Do  not  offend  a  bad  man,  because  he  will  stick  at  noth- 
ing to  be  revenged.  It  is  cruel  to  insult  a  good  man,  who 
deserves  nothing  but  good.  A  great  man  may  easily 
crush  you.  And  there  is  none  so  mean  who  cannot  do 
mischief.     Therefore  follow  peace  with  all  men. 

To  carry  the  triumph  over  a  person  you  have  got  the 
better  of,  too  far,  is  mean  and  imprudent :  it  is  mean,  be- 
cause you  have  got  the  better;  it  is  imprudent,  because 
it  may  provoke  him  to  revenge  your  insolence  in  some 
desperate  way. 

Presents  ought  to  be  genteel,  not  expensive  :  they  arc- 
not  valued  by  generous  minds  for  their  own  sake,  but  as 
marks  of  love  or  esteem. 

Provide  for  the  worst ;  but  hope  the  best. 

Set  about  nothing,  without  first  thinking  it  o\  er  care- 
fully. To  say,  "  I  did  not  think  of  that,"  is  much  the 
same  as  saying,  "  You  must  know  I  am  a  simpleton." 

Whoever  anticipates  troubles,  will  find  he  has  thrown 
away  a  great  deal  of  terror  and  anguish  to  no  purpose. 

Accustom  yourself  to  have  some  employment  for  every 
hour  you  can  prudently  snatch  from  business.  „  This 
book  was  put  together  in  that  manner,  else  it  could  never 
have  been  writ  by  its  author. 

Live  so,  as  nobody  may  believe  bad  reports  against  you. 

Whenever  vou  find  vou  do  not  care  to  look  into  vour 


©F  PRUDENCE.  11£ 

affairs,  you  may  assure  yourself  that  they  will  soon  not 
be  fit  to  look  into. 

Reform  yourself  first  and  then  others. 

Do  not  place  your  happiness  in  ease  from  pain  :  there  is 
no  such  thing  in  this  world  ;  but  in  patience  under  afflic- 
tion, which  is  within  your  reach. 

If  you  are  a  master,  do  not  deprive  yourself  of  so  great 
a  raritv  as  a  good  servant  for  a  slight  offence.  If  you  are 
a  dependant,  do  not  throw  yourself  out  of  a  good  place, 
for  a  slight  affront. 

Do  what  good  offices  you  can ;  but  leave  yourself  at 
liberty  from  promises  and  engagements. 

Let  no  one  overload  you  with  favours  :  you  will  find  it 
an  unsufferable  burden. 

There  are  many  doublings  in  the  human  heart :  do  not 
think  you  can  find  out  the  whole  of  a  man's  real  character, 
at  once,  unless  he  is  a  fool. 

If  you  would  embroil  yourself  with  all  mankind  at 
once,  you  have  only  to  oppose  every  man's  prevailing  pas- 
sion. Endeavour  to  mortify  the  proud  man ;  irritate  the 
passionate ;  put  the  miser  to  expense ;  and  you  will 
have  them  all  against  you.  On  the  other  hand,  if  you  had 
rather  live  peaceably,  give  way  a  little  to  the  particular 
weakness  of  those  you  converse  with. 

It  will  take  some  time  to  raise  your  fortune  in  a  fair 
way,  and  to  fit  you  for  a  better  world :  it  will  therefore  be 
proper  to  begin  a  course  of  industry  and  piety  as  early  as 
possible. 

Aim  at  desert  rather  than  reward. 

Let  no  pretence  of  friendship  mislead  you  ;  he  is  not 
your  friend  who  attempts  it. 

Never  keep  a  bad  servant,  in  hope  of  his  reformation. 

It  is  seldom  that  either  borrower  or  lender  gets  by  the 
bargain. 

Think  yourself  cheap  off  with  a  little  scandal  for  extra- 
ordinary goodness  :  how  many  have  paid  their  lives  for 
their  integrity  ? 

The  friendship  of  an  artful  man  is  mere  self-interest : 
you  will  get  nothing  by  it. 

If  you  trust  a  known  knave,  people  will  not  so  much  as 
pity  you,  when  you  suffer  by  him. 

In  dealing  with  a  person  you  suspect,  it  mav  be  useful 

P 


114  OF  PRUDENCE. 

in  conversation  to  draw  him  into  difficulties,  if  possible,  as 
they  'cross-examine  witnesses  at  the  bar,  in  order  to  find 
out  the  truth.  It  may  even  be  of  use  to  set  him  a  talk- 
ing ;  in  the  inadvertency  and  hurry  of  conversation,  he 
may  discover  himself. 

Consider  how  difficult  a  thing  it  must  be  to  deceive 
the  general  eye  of  mankind,  who  are  as  much  interested 
to  detect  you,  as  you  are  to  deceive  them. 

He  is  surely  a  man  of  a  greater  reach,  who  can  conduct 
his  affairs  without  being  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  tricks 
and  temporary  expedients,  than  with  them  ;  he  who  knows 
how  to  secure  the  interest  both  of  this  world  and  the  next, 
than  he  who  cannot  contrive  to  get  a  comfortable  subsist- 
ence in  this  world  without  damning  his  soul. 

It  is  foolish  to  show  your  teeth  when  you  cannot  bite. 

Whoever  loves  injuries,  let  him  provoke  injuries. 

In  prosperity,  prepare  for  a  change  :  in  adversity,  hope 
for  one. 

If  you  are  ill  used  by  a  man,  especially  a  great  one,  put 
up  with  the  injury  quietly,  and  be  thankful  it  was  not 
worse.  When  they  do  but  a  little  mischief,  the  world 
has  a  good  pennyworth  of  them. 

If  .you  let  alone  making  your  will  till  you  come  to  a 
death-bed,  you  will  not  do  it  properly. 

If  you  give  at  all,  do  it  cheerfully. 

If  you  want  to  show  a  person,  that  you  see  through  his 
crafty  designs,  a  hint  between  jest  and  earnest  may  do  bet- 
ter than  telling  him  bluntly  and  fully  how  he  stands  in 
your  mind  :  from  a  little,  he  will  guess  the  rest. 

With  the  multiplicity  of  business  every  person  has  to 
do,  how  can  people  complain  of  being  distressed  for  some- 
what to  pass  the  time  ?  Besides  private  affairs  to  conduct, 
or  oversee  ;  children  to  form  to  wisdom  and  virtue  ;  the 
distressed  to  relieve  ;  the  unthinking  to  advise  ;  friends 
and  country  to  serve  ;  their  own  passions  to  conquer  ; 
their  minds  to  furnish  with  knowledge,  virtue,  and  reli- 
gion ;  a  whole  eternity's  happiness  to  provide  for. 

Try  a  friend  before  you  trust  him.  Trust  him  no  more 
than  is  necessary.  Bear  with  any  weakness  that  does  not 
strike  at  the  root  of  friendship.  If  a  difference  arise,  bring 
the  matter  to  a  calm  hearing.     Make  up  the  breach,  if 


OF  PRUDENCE.  115 

possible.     But  if  friendship  languishes  for  any  time,  let 
it  expire  peaceably. 

There  is  as  much  meanness  in  taking  every  trifle  for  an 
affront,  as  in  putting  up  with  the  grossest  indignity.  The 
first  is  the  character  of  a  bully  ;  the  latter  of  a  coward : 
which  of  the  two  had  you  rather  be  ? 

In  all  schemes,  leave  room  for  the  possibility  of  a  mis- 
carriage. 

Those  are  the  best  diversions,  which  most  relieve  the 
mind,  and  exercise  the  body ;  and  which  bring  the  least 
expense  of  time  and  money.  Mirth  is  one  thing,  and  mis- 
chief another. 

It  is  strange  to  reflect  a  little  upon  some  of  the  irrecon- 
cilable contrarieties  in  human  nature.  Nothing  seems 
more  strongly  worked  into  the  constitution  of  the  mind 
than  the  love  of  liberty.  Yet  how  very  ready  are  we  in 
some  cases  to  give  up  our  liberty  ?  What  more  tyrannical 
than  fashion  ?  Yet  how  do  all  ranks,  sexes,  and  ages  en- 
slave themselves  in  obedience  to  it  ?  There  is  great  reason 
to  believe  that  it  is  wholly  in  compliance  with  custom,  that 
many  judicious,  thinking  people,  waste  so  many  valuable 
hours  as  we  see  they  do,  at  an  amusement,  which  must  be 
a  slavery  to  persons  capable  of  thought,  I  mean  the  card- 
table.  But  such  people  ought  to  consider,  how  they  can 
justify  to  themselves  the  throwing  away  so  great  a  part  of 
precious  life,  besides  giving  their  countenance  to  a  bad 
practice  ;  merely  because  it  is  the  fashion. 

Bestir  yourself  while  young  :  you  will  want  rest 
when  old. 

Do  not  wish  ;  but  do. 

Trust  not  relations,  unless  they  be  such  as  you  would 
think  worthy  of  trust,  if  they  were  strangers. 

If  you  are  not  worth  a  shilling  after  all  jrour  debts  are 
paid,  do  not  spend  a  shilling  that  you  can  save.  Do  not 
squander  away  your  hopes. 

If  you  can  live  independent,  never  give  up  your  liberty 
and  your  leisure,  much  less  your  conscience,  to  a  great 
man.  He  has  nothing  to  give  in  return  for  them.  If  you 
can  but  be  contented  in  moderate  circumstances,  you  may 
be  happy,  and  keep  your  inestimable  liberty,  leisure,  and 
integrity  into  the  bargain. 

People  are  better  found  out  in  their  unguarded  hours. 


116  OF  PRUDENCE. 

than  by  the  principal  actions  of  their  lives  :  the  first,  is  na- 
ture, the  second,  art. 

If  you  chance  to  have  a  quarrel  with  any  one,  by  no 
means  write  letters,  or  send  messages  ;  bring  the  matter 
to  a  hearing,  as  quickly  as  possible,  before  your  spirits  have 
time  to  rankle.  Endeavour  rather  to  reconcile  than  con- 
quer your  enemy.  By  so  doing,  you  take  from  him  the 
inclination  to  hurt  you,  which  is  the  best  security.  When 
you  have  reconciled  him,  take  care,  if  you  find  he  has 
acted  a  traitorous  part,  never  to  trust,  or  be  intimately 
concerned  with  him  any  more.  You  may  love  him  as  a 
fellow  creature  ;  but  not  confide  in  him  as  a  good  man. 

To  gain  applause,  you  must  do  as  the  archer,  who  ob- 
tains the  prize  by  hitting  the  mark. 

Asking  a  favour  by  letter,  or  giving  a  person  time  to 
think  of  it,  is  only  giving  him  an  opportunity  of  getting  off 
handsomely. 

It  is  not  hard  to  find  out  a  man's  true  merit,  as  to 
abilities. 

He  who  behaves  well,  is  certainly  no  weak  man.  But 
nothing  is  more  difficult,  than  to  find  out  a  man's  cha- 
racter as  to  integrity. 

He  who  never  misbehaved  either  in  joy,  in  grief,  or 
surprise,  must  have  his  wisdom  at  command,  in  a  manner 
almost  superior  to  humanity,  and  may  be  pronounced  a 
true  hero. 

Haste  is  but  a  poor  apology  :  take  time  and  do  your  bu- 
siness well. 

If  you  would  not  be  forestalled  by  another,  or  laughed 
at  in  case  of  a  disappointment,  do  not  tell  your  designs. 

If  you  are  to  be  called  a  scrub,  let  it  be  for  sparing, 
where  frugality  is  proper.  Who  would  spare  in  the  edu- 
cation of  a  son  ;  in  carrying  on  a  considerable  law  suit ;  or 
in  defraying  the  expense  of  a  solemnity  ? 

I  would  not  answer  for  the  conduct  of  the  ablest  man  in 
the  world,  if  I  knew  that  he  was  so  conceited  of  his  own 
abilities,  as  to  be  above  advice. 

There  is  more  good  to  be  done  in  life  by  obstinate  dili- 
gence, and  perseverance,  than  most  people  seem  aware  of. 
The  ant  and  bee  are  but  little  and  weak  animals ;  and  yet 
by  constant  application,  they  do  wonders. 

Do  not  scold  or  swear  at  your  servants :  they  will  des> 


OF  PRUDENCE.  117 

pise  you  for  a  passionate,  clamorous  fool.  Do  not  make 
them  too  familiar  with  you  :  they  will  make  a  wrong  use 
of  it,  and  grow  saucy.  Do  not  let  them  know  all  the  va- 
lue you  have  for  them  :  they  will  presume  upon  your 
goodness,  and  conclude  that  you  cannot  do  without  them. 
Do  not  give  them  too  great  wages  :  it  will  put  them  above 
their  business.  Do  not  allow  them  too  much  liberty : 
they  will  want  still  more  and  more.  Do  not  entreat 
them  to  live  with  you  :  if  you  do,  they  will  conclude  they 
may  live  as  they  please. 

Irresolution  is  as  foolish  as  rashness.  If  the  husband- 
man should  never  sow,  or  the  shipmaster  never  put  to 
sea,  where  would  be  the  harvest,  or  the  gains  ? 

Do  not  think  to  prevail  with  a  man  in  a  fury,  to  calm  his 
passion  in  a  moment ;  if  you  can  persuade  him  to  put  off 
his  revenge  for  some  time,  it  will  be  the  most  you  can 
hope.  Advice  may  sometimes  do  good  when  you  do 
not  expect  it.  People  do  not  care  to  seem  persuaded  to 
alter  any  part  of  their  conduct :  for  that  is  an  acknow- 
ledgment, that  they  were*  in  the  wrong.  But  they  may, 
perhaps,  reflect  afterwards  upon  what  you  said ;  and,  if 
they  do  not  wholly  reform  the  fault  you  reproved,  they 
may  rectify  it  in  some  measure. 

To  be  regular,  is  prudence  ;  to  go  like  a  clock,  is  mere 
formality. 

Do  not  wish  for  an  increase  of  wealth  ;  it  does  but  en- 
large the  desires  :  whereas  happiness  consists  in  the  gra- 
tification of  the  wants  of  nature. 

Where  lies  the  wisdom  of  that  revenge,  which  recoils 
upon  one's  self?  Instead  of  getting  the  better  of  your 
enemy,  by  offending  your  Maker  in  revenging  an  injury, 
you  give  your  enemy  the  advantage,  of  seeing  you  punish- 
ed. If  you  would  have  the  whole  advantage,  forgive ;  and 
then,  if  he  does  not  repent,  the  whole  punishment  will  fall 
upon  him. 

Profuse  giving  or  treating  is  laughed  at  by  the  wise,  ac- 
cording to  the  old  saying,  "  Fools  make  feasts,"  &c. 

He  has  a  good  income,  who  has  but  few  occasions  of 
spending  :   not  he  who  has  great  rents,  and  great  vents. 

Providence  can  raise  the  meanest,  jor  humble  the  high- 
est :  it  is  therefore  absurd  for  the  one  to  despair,  or  the 
other  to  presume. 


US  OF  PRUDENCE. 

In  difficult  businesses,  it  may  answer  good  purposes,  to 
let  the  proposal  be  made  by  a  person  of  interior  conse- 
quence, and  let  another,  whose  word  will  have  more 
weight,  come,  as  if  by  chance,  and  second  the  motion. 

Would  you  punish  the  spiteful  ?  Show  him  that  you 
are  above  his  malice.  The  dart,  he  threw  at  you,  will 
then  rebound,  and  pierce  him  to  the  heart. 

T6*get  an  estate  fairly  requires  good  abilities.  To  keep 
and  improve  one,  is  not  to  be  done  without  diligence  and 
frugality.  But  to  lose  one  with  a  grace,  when  it  so  pleases 
the  divine  Providence,  is  a  still  nobler  art. 

He  who  promises  rashly,  will  break  his  promise  with 
the  same  ease  as  he  made  it. 

Keep  a  watch  over  yourself,  when  you  are  in  extreme 
good  humour  :  artful  people  will  take  that  opportunity  to 
draw  you  into  promises,  which  may  embarrass  you  either 
to  break  or  keep. 

Your  actions  must  not  only  be  right,  but  expedient : 
they  must  not  only  be  agreeable  to  virtue,  but  to  prudence. 

You  may  safely  be  umpire  among  strangers,  but  not 
among  friends :  in  deciding  between  the  former,  you  may 
gain  ;  among  the  latter,  you  must  lose. 

Great  fame  is  like  a  great  estate,  hard  to  get,  hard  to 
keep. 

Party  is  the  madness  of  many,  for  the  gain  of  a  few ; 
says  Swift. 

If  it  gives  you  pain,  or  shame,  to  think  of  changing 
your  scheme  at  the  remonstrance  of  your  faithful  friend, 
(which  shows  extreme  weakness  in  you,)  you  may  get 
over  that  difficulty,  by  seeming  to  have  thought  of  some 
additional  consideration,  which  has  moved  you  to  follow 
his  advice. 

In  a  free  country,  there  is  little  to  be  done  by  force  : 
gentle  means  may  gain  you  those  ends,  which  violence 
would  for  ever  put  out  of  your  power. 

He  who  is  unhappy,  and  can  find  no  comfort  at  home, 
is  unhappy  indeed. 

Never  trust  a  man  for  the  vehemence  of  his  assevera- 
tions, whose  bare  word  you  would  not  trust :  a  knave  will 
make  no  more  of  shearing  to  a  falsehood,  than  of  affirm- 
ing it. 


OF  PRUDENXE.  119 

Theory  will  fignifiy  little,  without  address  to  put  your 
knowledge  in  practice. 

In  affliction,  constrain  yourself  to  bear  patiently  for  a 
day  or  so  only  for  the  sake  of  trying,  whether  patience 
does  not  lighten  the  burden  :  if  the  experiment  answers, 
as  you  will  undoubtedly  find,  you  have  only  to  continue  it. 

If  you  borrow,  be  sure  of  making  punctual  payment, 
else  you  will  have  no  more  trust. 

Is  it  not  better  that  your  friend  tell  you  your  faults  pri- 
vately, than  that  your  enemy  talk  of  them  publicly  ? 

A  princely  mind  will  ruin  a  private  fortune.  Keep  the 
rank  in  which  Providence  hath  placed  you  :  and  do  not 
make  yourself  unhappy,  because  you  cannot  afford  what- 
ever a  wild  fancy  might  suggest.  The  revenues  of  all  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world  would  not  be  equal  to  the  expense 
of  one  extravagant  person. 

Where  there  is  a  prospect  of  doing  good,  neither  be  so 
forward  in  thrusting  yourself  into  the  direction  of  the 
business  as  to  keep  out  others,  who  might  manage  it  bet- 
ter ;  nor  so  backward,  through  false  modesty,  as  to  let  the 
thing  go  undone,  for  want  of  somebody  to  do  it.  If  no  one- 
else,  who  could  execute  a  good  work  better,  will  engage  in 
it,  do  you  undertake  and  execute  it  as  well  as  you  can. 

The  man  of  books  is  generally  awkward  in  business : 
the  man  of  business  is  often  superficial  in  knowledge. 

In  engaging  yourself  for  any  person  or  thing,  you  will 
be  sure  to  entangle  yourself,  if  things  should  not  turn  out 
to  your  expectation.  And  if  you  get  off  for  a  little  ridi- 
cule think  it  a  arood  bargain. 

You  may  perhaps  come  to  be  great  or  rich ;  but  re- 
member the  taxes  and  deductions  you  will  be  liable  to,  of 
hurry,  noise,  impatience,  flattery,  envy,  anxiety,  disap- 
pointment ;  not  to  mention  remorse.  All  these,  and  a 
hundred  other  articles  set  on  one  side  of  the  account,  and 
your  wealth  and  grandeur  on  the  other,  are  you  likely  to 
be  greatly  a  gainer  in  happiness  by  quitting  a  private  sta- 
tion from  pomp  and  show  ?  Ask  those  who  have  experi- 
ence. 

Necessity  and  ability  live  next  door  to  one  another. 

If  you  never  ask  advice,  you  will  hardly  go  always  right. 
If  you  ask  too  many,  you  will  not  know  which  way  to  go. 
If  you  obstinately  oppose  advice,  you  will  certainly  go 


1,20  OF  PRUDENCE. 

wrong*     A  wicked  counsellor  will  mislead  you  wilfully : 
a  foolish  one  thoughtlessly. 

Never  take  credit  where  you  can  pay  ready  money  ; 
especially  of  low  dealers  :  they  will  make  you  pay  interest 
with  a  vengeance. 

Never  refuse  a  good  offer,  for  the  sake  of  a  better  mar- 
ket :  the  first  is  certainty  ;  the  latter  only  hope. 

To  make  a  thing  come  of  another,  which  you  must  at 
last  have  done  yourself,  is  an  innocent,  and  often  useful  art 
in  life. 

Take  care  of  irrevocable  deeds. 

He  who  has  done  all  he  could,  has  discharged  his  con- 
science. 

Debt  is  one  of  the  most  substantial  and  real  evils  of 
life :  especially  when  a  man  comes  to  be  so  plunged,  as  to 
have  no  prospect  of  ever  getting  clear.  An  honest  mind 
in  such  circumstances,  must  be  in  a  state  of  despair,  be- 
cause there  is  no  hope  of  ever  being  in  a  condition  to  do 
justice  to  mankind. 

Never  let  yourself  be  meanly  betrayed  into  an  admira- 
tion of  a  person  of  high  rank,  or  fortune,  whom  you  would 
despise,  if  he  were  your  equal  in  station  :  none  but  fools 
and  children  are  struck  with  tinsel. 

It  is  an  employment  more  useful  in  society,  to  be  a  ma- 
ker-up  of  differences,  than  a  professor  of  Astronomy.  But 
it  requires  prudence  to  know  how  to  come  between  two 
people  who  are  bickering  at  one  another  ;  and  not  have  a 
blow  from  one  or  other. 

If  you  must  give  a  person,  who  comes  to  ask  a  favour, 
the  mortification  of  a  denial,  do  not  add  to  it  that  of  an  af- 
front, unless  he  has  affronted  you  by  his  petition. 

If  you  make  use  of  the  faults  of  others,  as  warnings  to 
avoid  falling  into  the  same  errors,  you  may  profit  by  fol- 
ly, as  well  as  by  wisdom.  If  you  think  of  nothing  but 
laughing  at  them,  I  know  no  great  advantage  you  can  get 
by  that. 

If  you  can  by  any  sudden  contrivance,  (for  framing  of 
which  you  do  not  find  yourself  reduced  to  the  necessity 
of  a  lie,  or  any  other  baser  art)  draw  oft' part  of  the  atten- 
tion of  your  enemy,  or  disconcert  his  measures,  as  it  is 
common  in  Avar  to  attack  at  several  places,  at  once  ;  I  hold 
it  an  honest  and  laudable  artifice, 


OF  PRUDENCE.  121 

Do  you  not  remember,  when  you  was  about  twenty  or 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  that  you  was  very  full  of  your 
own  talents  and  accomplishments  ?  Do  you  not  find,  that 
you  have  been  growing  every  year  since,  more  and  more 
ignorant  and  weak  in  your  own  opinion  ?  Let  this  teach 
you  to  put  a  proper  estimate  upon  your  attainments,  and 
to  know  that  the  time  will  come,  when  (if  you  be  found 
worthy  of  true  knowledge)  you  will  reflect  on  all  your  ac- 
quisitions in  this  state,  as  comparatively  mean  and  trivial. 

Look  back  upon  the  difficulties  and  troubles  you  have 
been  embarrassed  with  in  life  ;  and  observe,  whether  most 
of  them  have  not  been  occasioned  by  misconduct,  pride, 
passion,  folly,  and  vice  :  and  if  you  find  you  cannot  bring 
yourself  to  give  up  what  has  cost  you  infinite  trouble  and 
vexation,  conclude  yourselfa  confirmed  incurable  madman. 

If  ever  you  engage  in  any  design  for  the  public  good, 
depend  upon  meeting  with  almost  as  many  hindrances)  as 
you  have  different  persons  to  be  concerned  with.  You 
will  have  a  difficulty  started  by  almost  ever}7  one,  to  whom 
you  propose  your  scheme.  One  will  tell  you,  it  will  do 
no  good ;  another,  that  it  will  do  harm  ;  and  almost  all 
will  be  cold  to  what  is  not  of  their  own  proposing.  Some 
will  seem  to  come  into  your  scheme  at  once,  and  will  by 
degrees  draw  you  out  of  the  way  you  was  in.  By  and  by, 
some  bugbear  starts  up  before  them ;  and  then  they  are 
as  hasty  to  desert  you,  as  they  were  sanguine  to  join  you. 
Many  love  to  make  a  show  of  public  spirit,  while  there  i& 
no  trouble  to  be  taken,  or  expense  to  be  laid  out ;  but 
when  you  expect  them  to  bestir  themselves  in  earnest, 
you  find  yourself  disappointed.  Many,  for  the  mere  va- 
nity of  being  in  a  scheme,  will  be  very  busy  ;  but  if  they 
find  they  cannot  be  of  the  importance  they  desire,  or  that 
they  cannot  rule  all,  the  public  good  may  shift  for  itself, 
for  what  they  care ;  they  will  have  no  concern,  where  they 
must  go  along  with  others.  The  timorousness  of  some ; 
the  difficulty  of  others,  with  respect  to  their  characters, 
which  they  do  not  care  to  hazard  for  the  public  advan- 
tage ;  and  the  rashness  of  others,  who  will  be  meddling  ; 
the  coldness,  the  forwardness,  the  pride,  the  diffidence,  of 
those  who  should  go  along  with  you,  will  be  so  many  ob* 
stacles  in  your  way,  which  will  heartily  plague  you,  if  not 
wholly  disconcert  your  scheme.     But  we  must  not,  on 

Q 


122  OF  PRUDENCE. 

account  of  the  difficulties,  resolve  against  attempting  am 
thincr  for  the  general  advantage.  On  the  conti  ary,  the  mere 
the  difficulty,  the  greater  the  praise.  The  proper  method 
of  proceeding  on  such  occasions,  I  take  to  be  us  follows  : 

Consider  carefully  your  scheme,  with  its  probable  con- 
sequences, comparing  it  with  whatever  you  have  known 
done,  that  may  coincide  with  or  resemble  it,  either  at 
home  or  in  foreign  countries.  Then  talk  it  over  with  one 
or  more  friends,  whom  you  know  to  be  men  of  under- 
standing and  sincerity.  Keep  it  as  private  as  possible,  till 
it  he  almost  ripe  for  execution.  Carry  it  as  far  as  you 
can,  before  you  desire  the  concurrence  of  any  number  of 
persons,  especially  of  high  rank.  They  are  generally,  and 
not  altogether  without  reason,  suspicious  of  whatever  is 
proposed  to  them  as  a  project.  And  one  will  not  be  first, 
and  another  will  not  be  first,  in  a  new  scheme  :  though 
they  will  perhaps  join  with  others,  especially  of  their  own 
rank.  By  this  conduct  you  may  by  degrees  draw  into  a 
concurrence  with  yen  some  persons,  whose  names  may 
be  of  sen  ice,  and  may  prevent  the  objections  which  may 
be  made  by  others.  For  when  people  see  a  design  going 
into  immediate  execution,  they  will  consider  it  in  a  very 
different  manner  from  what  is  only  proposed  as  a  possible 
scheme,  but  is  yet  wholly  immature. 

I  cannot  help  wondering  at  the  turn  of  many  people's 
minds,  who  are  fond  of  what  is  far  fetched,  merely  for  its 
beinfr  foreisrn.  Whereas  one  would  think  self-love,  which 
produces  so  many  foolish  effects,  might  at  least  produce 
one  reasonable  one,  I  mean,  to  make  people  fond  of  home, 
and  whatever  is  the  product  of  their  own  country,  and 
their  own  grounds.  Why  should  we  love  our  own  chil- 
dren, our  own  works,  and  our  own  weaknesses  merely  be- 
cause tliev  are  our  own,  at  the  same  time  that  we  love  fo- 
reign fashions,  wines,  musicians,  ckc.  merely  because  they 
are  foreign  "?  For  my  part,  I  think  it  is  much  more  for  an 
English  gentleman  to  boast,  that  the  provisions  of  his  ta- 
ble are  the  product  of  his  own  estate,  and  the  dress  he 
wears,  the  manufacture  of  his  own  country,  than  that  the 
four  quarters  of  the  globe  have  been  ransacked  to  feed  and 
clothe  him.* 

*  Thes  s  on  the  Love  of  Country  ought,  at  this  lime  Jn  particular,  to 

daive  their  full  force  on  the  heart  of  every  American. — Publisher. 


OF  PRUDENCE.  123 

If  while  you  are  young,  and  bad  habits  are  yet  but  weak 
in  you,  you  have  not  strength  of  mind  to  conquer  them,  how 
will  you  bL'  able  to  do  it,  when  they  have  acquired  strength 
by  length  of  time  and  practice  ?  If  you  do  not  find  your- 
self now  disposed  to  look  into  the  state  of  your  mind, 
and  to  repent  and  reform,  while  there  is  less  to  set  right, 
how  will  you  bring  yourself  hereafter  to  examine  your  own 
heart,  when  all  is  confusion  within,  and  nothing  fit  to  be 
looked  into '?  Or  how  will  you  bring  yourself  to  repent 
and  reform,  when  there  will  be  so  much  to  set  right,  that 
you  will  not  know  where  to  begin  '? 

It  is  easy  to  keep  from  gaming,  drunkenness,  or  any 
other  fashionable  vice.  You  have  only  to  lay  down  a  firm 
resolution,  and  fix  in  your  mind  a  steady  aversion  against 
them.  When  once  your  humour  is  known,  nobody  will 
trouble  you.  They  will  perhaps  say  of  you,  "He  is  a 
queer  fellow,  and  will  not  do  as  other  people  do."  At 
last  those  who  cannot  live  without  the  card-table  and  the 
bottle,  will  drop  you;  and  then  vou  have  only  to  seek  out 
company  where  improvement  is  more  pursued  than  amuse- 
ment. I  am  mistaken  if  you  will  be  a  great  loser  by  the 
exchange. 

Make  a  sure  bargain  beforehand  with  workmen ;  and 
by  no  means  be  put  oft'  with  their  telling  you,  they  will 
refer  the  price  to  your  discretion. 

A  person,  who  fills  a  place  of  eminence,  will  do  well  to 
observe  the  following  rules:  1.  Above  all  things  to  act 
a  strictly  just  and  upright  part:  for  that  will  be  sure  to 
end  well.  2.  To  make  his  advantage  of  the  errors  of  his 
predecessors.  3.  To  avoid  all  extremes  in  general  : 
violent  measures  are  wholly  inconsistent  with  prudence. 
4.  To  suspect  all ;  but  take  care  not  to  seem  suspicious  of 
any.  5.  To  be  content  with  a  moderate  income,  and 
moderate  ostentation :  great  riches  and  grandeur  infallibly 
draw  envy  and  hatred.  6.  To  be  easy  of  access  :  stiffness 
is  universally  hated  ;  and  affability  tends  to  reconcile  peo- 
ple to  the  private  character  of  a  person  whose  public  con- 
duct may  be  obnoxious.  7.  To  hear  all  opinions,  and 
follow  the  best.  8.  To  listen  attentively  to  the  remarks 
made  by  enemies.  9.  To  show  to  inferiors  somewhat 
personally  great  in  his  conduct  and  character:  it  exposes 


|i>4  OF  PRUDENCE. 

a  man  of  rank  to  extreme  contempt,  to  observe  that  what 
makes  the  difference  between  him  and  his  interiors,  is 
chiefly  dress,  riches,  or  station.  10.  To  retire  in  time,  if 
possible,  with  a  reputation  unsullied. 

Health  ;  a  good  conscience  ;  one  hundred  a  year  for  a 
single  person,  or  two  for  a  family ;  the  real  necessaries  of 
life  are  soon  reckoned  up.  If  there  happen  to  be  in  the 
neighbourhood  a  few  conversable  people,  with  whom  you 
may  waik,  or  ride  out,  hear  a  song,  crack  a  harmless  joke, 
or  have  a  game  at  bowls,  you  are  possessed  of  the  whole 
luxury  of  life.  Where  is  the  man  whose  merit  may  chal- 
lenge such  happiness?  Yet  how  many  are  there  dissatisfied 
in  affluence  beyond  this? 

h  you  find  yourself  in  a  thriving  way  keep  in  it. 

Throw  sordid  self  out  of  your  mind,  if  you  think  of 
being  truly  great  in  spirit. 

A  readiness  at  throwing  any  sudden  thought  which  may 
occur,  either  in  reading  or  conversation,  into  easy  language, 
may  be  of  great  use  towards  improvement  in  prudence  for  ac- 
tion, and  iurniture  for  conversation.  One  who  accustoms 
himself  much  to  making  remarks  of  all  kinds  in  writing, 
must  in  time  have  by  him  a  collection  containing  some- 
what upon  every  thing. 

I  do  not  know  a  much  greater  unhappiness  in  life,  than 
that  of  being  connected  by  blood  or  friendship,  with  un- 
fortunate necessitous  people.  A  generous  mind  cannot 
bear  to  see  them  sink,  without  endeavouring  to  help  ihem 
out  of  their  difficulties,  The  consequence  of  which  is, 
being  drawn  into  difficulties  by  their  means.  If  you  lend, 
and  ask  for  your  own,  a  quarrel  follows.  And  if  you  give 
freely,  they  will  depend  on  your  supporting  them  in  idle- 
ness. And  after  all,  what  is  most  vexatious  is,  that  you 
can  seldom  do  any  good  to  imprudent  and  unthriving 
people.  Such  connections  a  prudent  man  will  avoid,  or 
give  up  as  soon  as  possible. 

Do  not  think  of  any  great  design  after  forty  years  of  age. 

The  very  deliberating  upon  business  is  half  the  busi- 
ness. 

Your  neighbour  has  more  income  than  enough ;  you 
have  just  enough.  Is  your  neighbour  the  better  lor  hav- 
ing what  he  has  no  use  for?  Are  you  the  worse  for  being 
free  from  the  trouble  of  what  would  be  useless  to  you  ? 


OF  PRUDENCE.  125 

Better  consider  for  an  hour,  than  repent  for  a  year. 

Let  scandal  alone,  and  it  will  die  away  of  itself :  op- 
pose it,  and  it  will  spread  the  faster. 

Let  safety  and  innocence  be  two  indispensable  ingredi- 
ents in  all  your  amusements :  Is  there  any  pleasure  in 
what  leads  to  loss  of  health,  fortune,  or  soul  ? 

Take  care  of  falling  out  of  conceit  with  your  wife,  your 
station,  habitation,  business,  or  any  thing  else,  which  you 
cannot  change.  Let  no  comparisons  once  enter  into  your 
mind  :  the  consequence  will  be  restlessness,  envy,  and 
unhappiness. 

Be  not  desirous  of  scenes  of  grandeur,  of  heightened 
pleasures  and  diversions  :  it  is  the  sure  way  to  take  your 
heart  off  from  your  private  station  and  way  of  life,  and  to 
make  you  uneasy  and  unhappy.  It  is  a  thousand  to  one 
but,  if  you  were  to  get  into  a  higher  station,  you  would 
find  it  awkward  and  unsuitable  to  you,  and  that  you  would 
only  want  to  return  again  to  your  former  happy  indepen- 
dence. 

There  is  no  time  spent  more  stupidly  than  that  which 
some  luxurious  people  pass  in  a  morning  between  sleep- 
ing and  waking,  after  nature  has  been  fully  gratified.  He 
who  is  awake,  may  be  doing  somewhat :  he  who  is  asleep, 
is  receiving  the  refreshment  necessary  to  fit  him  tor  action  : 
but  the  hours  spent  in  dozing  and  slumbering,  can  hard- 
ly be  called  existence. 

Consider,  the  most  elegant  beauty  is  only  a  fair  skin 
drawn  over  a  heap  of  the  same  flesh,  blood,  bones,  and  im- 
purities, which  compose  the  body  of  the  ugliest  dunghill 
beggar. 

If  you  have  made  an  injudicious  friendship,  let  it  sink 
gently  and  gradually  ;  if  you  blow  it  up  at  once,  mischief 
may  be  the  consequence  :  never  disoblige,  if  you  can  pos- 
sibly avoid  it. 

If  you  want  to  try  experiments,  take  care  at  least,  that 
they  be  not  dangerous  ones. 

Better  not  make  a  present  at  all,  than  do  it  in  a  pitiful 
manner ;  every  thing  of  elegance,  is  better  let  alone  than 
clumsily  performed. 

If  you  want  to  keep  the  good  opinion  of  a  great  person, 
whom  you  find  to  be  a  man  of  understanding ;  do  not 


1:26  OF  PRUDENCE. 

thrust  yourself  upon  him,  but  let  him  send  for  you  when 
he  wants  you.  Do  not  pump  lor  his  secrets,  but  stay  till 
he  ;ells  you  them  ;  nor  oiler  him  your  advice  unasked  ;  nor 
repeat  any  thing  of  what  passes  between  yon,  relating' to 
family,  or  state  affairs  ;  nor  boast  of  your  intimacy  with 
him  ;  nor  show  yourself  ready  to  sneak  and  cringe,  or  to 
make  the  enemy  of  mankind  a  present  of  your  soul  to  ob- 
lige your  patron.  If  your  scheme  be  to  make  your  fortune 
at  any  rate,  put  on  your  boots,  and  plunge  through  thick 
and  thin. 

It  will  vex  you  to  lose  a  friend  for  a  smart  stroke  of  rail- 
lery ;  or  the  opinion  of  the  wise  and  good,  for  a  piece  of 
foolish  behaviour  at  a  merry-making. 

The  more  you  enlarge  your  concerns  in  life,  the  more 
chances  you  will  have  of  embarrassments. 

Mankind  generally  act  not  according  to  right  ;  but 
more  according  to  present  interest ;  and  most  according 
to  present  passion  :  by  this  key  you  may  generally  get  into 
their  designs,  and  foretell  what  course  they  will  take. 

In  estimating  the  worth  of  men,  keep  a  guard  upon 
your  judgment,  that  it  be  not  biassed  by  wealth  or  splen- 
dour. At  the  same  time,  there  is  no  necessity  for  treating 
with  a  cynical  insolence,  every  person  whom  Provic! 
hath  placed  in  an  eminent  station,  merely  because  four 
experience  teaches  you,  that  very  few  of  the  great  are  de- 
serving of  the  esteem  of  the  wise  and  good.  Consider 
the  temptations  which  besiege  people  of  distinction,  and 
render  it  almost  impossible  for  them  to  come  at  truth  ; 
and  make  all  reasonable  allowances.  If  you  see  any  thing 
like  real  goodness  of  heart  in  a  person  of  high  rank,  admire 
it  as  an  uncommon  instance  of  excellence,  which,  in  a 
more  private  station,  would  have  risen  to  an  extraordinary 
pitch. 

Never  write  letters  about  any  affair  that  has  occasioned, 
or  may  occasion  a  difference  :  a  difference  looks  bigger 
in  a  letter  than  in  conversation. 

Do  not  let  one  failure  in  a  worthy  and  practicable 
scheme  baffle  you  :  the  more  difficulty  the  more  glory. 

If  you  do  not  set  your  whole  thoughts  upon  a  business, 
while  you  are  about  it,  it  is  ten  to  one  but  you  mismanage 
it  :  if  you  set  your  affections  immoveably  upon  worldly 
things  vou  will  become  a  sordid  earth- worm. 


OF  PRUDENCE.  J 27 

Grief  smothered  preys  upon  the  vitals  ;  give  it  vent  into 
the  bosom  of  a  friend  :  but  take  eare  that  your  friend  be  a 
person  of  approved  tenderness  ;  else  he  will  not  admin- 
ister the  balm  of  sympathy  :  of  tried  prudence  ;  else  you 
will  not  profit  by  his  advice  or  consolation  :  and  of  expe- 
rienced secrecy  ;  else  you  may  chance  to  find  yourself  be- 
trayed and  undone. 

In  public  places  be  cautious  of  your  behaviour :  you 
know  not  who  may  have  an  eye  upon  you,  and  afterwards 
expose  your  levity  or  affectation  where  you  would  least 
wish  it.  Nothing-  can  be  imagined  more  nauseous  than 
the  public  behaviour  of  many  people,  who  make  mighty 
pretensions  to  the  elegancies  of  life.  To  go  to  church,  to 
a  tragedy,  or  an  oratorio,  only  to  disturb  all  who  are  within 
reach  of  your  impertinence,  shows  a  want,  not  only  of 
common  modesty  and  civility,  but  of  common  sense.  If 
you  do  not  come  to  improve,  or  to  enjoy  the  entertain- 
ment, you  can  have  no  rational  scheme  in  view.  If  you 
want  to  play  off  your  fooleries,  you  have  only  to  go  to  a 
rout,  where  you  are  sure  nothing  of  sense  Gr  reasonable  en- 
tertainment will  have  any  place,  and  where  consequently 
you  can  spoil  nothing.  As  to  indecencies  in  places  of 
public  worship,  one  would  think  the  fear  of  being-  struck 
by  the  Power  to  whom  such  places  are  dedicated,  would 
a  little  restrain  the  public  impiety  of  some  people. 

Never  disoblige  servants  if  you  can  avoid  it.  Low 
people  are  often  mischievous  :  and  having  lived  with  you, 
have  it  in  their  power  to  misrepresent  and  injure  you. 

The  more  servants  you  keep,  the  worse  you  will  be 
served. 

Great  people  think  their  inferiors  do  only  their  duty-  in 
serving  them  :  And  that  they  do  theirs  in  rewarding  their 
services  with  a  nod  or  a  smile.  The  lower  part  of  man- 
kind have  minds  too  sordid  to  be  capable  of  gratitude.  It 
is  therefore  chiefly  from  the  middle  rank  that  vou  ma}- 
look  for  a  sense  and  return  of  kindness,  or  any  thing  wor- 
thy or  laudable. 

Do  not  let  your  enemy  see  that  he  has  it  in  his  power 
to  plague  you. 

Beware  of  one  who  has  been  your  enemy,  and  ail  of  a 
sudden,  no  body  knows  how,  or  why,  grows  mighty  loving 
and  friendlv. 


128  OF  PRUDENCE. 

In  proposing-  your  business,  be  rather  too  full,  than  tod 
brief,  to  prevent  mistakes.  In  affairs,  of  which  you  are  a 
judge,  make  the  proposal  yourself.  In  cases  which  you 
do  not  understand,  wait  if  possible,  till  another  makes  it 
to  you. 

Be  fearful  of  one  you  have  once  got  the  better  of.  You 
know  not  how  you  may  have  irritated  him ;  nor  how 
deeply  revenge  works  in  his  heart  against  you.  U  is  bet- 
ter not  to  seem  to  have  got  the  advantage  of  your  enemy 
when  you  have. 

If  you  ask  a  favour,  which  you  had  some  pretensions 
to,  and  meet  with  a  refusal,  it  will  be  impolitic  to  show 
that  you  think  yourself  ill  used.  You  will  act  a  more  pru- 
dent part  in  seeming  satisfied  with  the  reasons  given.  So 
you  may  take  another  opportunity  of  soliciting;  and  may 
chance  to  be  successful :  for  the  person  you  have  obliged 
will,  if  he  has  any  grace,  be  ashamed  and  puzzled  to  re- 
fuse you  a  second  time. 

If  you  are  defamed,  consider,  whether  the  prosecution 
of  the  person  who  has  injured  you  is  not  more  likely  to 
spread  the  report  than  to  clear  your  innocence.  If  so, 
your  regard  for  yourself,  will  teach  you  what  course  to 
ftike. 


OF 


HUMAN  NATURE. 


BOOK  II. 


OF  KNOWLEDGE. 


INTRODUCTION. 

.AVING  in  the  former  book  laid  before  the  young 
reader  a  series  of  directions  with  regard  to  his  conduct  in 
most  circumstances  in  life,  which,  if  he  will  follow,  sup- 
plying their  deficiencies  (as  it  is  impossible  to  frame  a  sys- 
tem of  prudentials  that  shall  suit  all  possible  cases  with- 
out deficiency)  by  applying  to  the  judicious  and  experi- 
enced for  advice  in  all  extraordinary  emergencies,  and  by 
forming  his  conduct  by  the  best  rules  and  examples,  he 
wiil  have  great  reason  to  hope  for  success  and  credit  in  life, 
and  to  have  even  his  disappointments  and  misfortunes  as- 
cribed, at  least  by  the  candid  and  benevolent,  to  other 
causes,  rather  than  to  error,  or  misconduct  on  his  part ;  it 
follows  next  to  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  what 
makes  another  very  considerable  part  of  the  dignity  of 
human  life,  to  wit,  The  improvement  of  the  mind,  by 
useful  and  ornamental  knowledge. 

It  may  be  objected,  that,  as  all  our  knowledge  is  com- 
paratively but  ignorance,  it  cannot  be  of  much  importance 
that  we  take  the  pains  to  acquire  what  is  of  so  little  conse- 
quence when  acquired. 

R 


130  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

But  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  our  knowledge  is  said  to 
be  inconsiderable  only  in  comparison  with  that  of  superior 
beings,  and  that  what  we  can  know  is  not  to  be  named  in 
comparison  with  what  in  the  present  state  lies  wholly  out 
of  our  reach.  And  though  this  is  the  case  notonlv  of  our 
shortsighted  species,  but  also  of  the  highest  archangel  in 
heaven,  whose  comprehension,  being  still  finite,  must  fall 
infinitely  short  of  the  whole  extent  of  knowledge,  which 
in  the  l^ivine  Mind  is  strictly  infinite  ;  yet  I  believe  hard- 
ly any  man  can  be  found  so  weak  as  to  despise  the  knowl- 
edge of  an  angel,  or  superior  being,  or  who  would  not 
willingly  acquire  it,  if  it  were  possible. 

If  there  is  a  certain  measure  of  knowledge,  which  we 
are  sure  is  attainable,  because  it  has  been  attained  by 
many  of  our  own  species,  must  we  despise  it  because  we 
know  there  are  vast  tracks  of  science  to  which  human  sa- 
gacity cannot  reach  ?  Must  we  fall  out  with  our  eyes  be- 
cause they  cannot  take  in  the  ken  of  an  angel  ?  Must  we 
resolve  not  to  make  use  of  them  to  see  our  way  here  on 
earth,  because  they  are  not  acute  enough  to  show  us 
whether  there  are  any  inhabitants  in  the  moon  ? 

Truth  may  be  compared  to  gold  or  diamonds  in  the 
mine,  the  smallest  fragment  of  which  is  valuable.  And 
if  one  had  the  offer  of  all  the  gold  dust,  or  all  the  small 
diamonds  of  a  mine,  I  believe  he  would  hardly  reject  it, 
because  he  could  not  have  the  working  of  the  rich  vein 
wholly  to  himself.  Truth  is  the  proper  object  of  the  un- 
derstanding, as  food  is  the  nourishment  of  the  bod}'. 
Less  important  truths  are  still  worth  searching  for. 
Truths  of  great  importance  are  worth  any  labour  the  find- 
ing them  may  cost. 

It  is,  therefore,  plainly  one  thing  to  be  conceited  of  any 
acquisitions  we  can  make  in  knowledge,  and  another,  to, 
despise  those  that  are  within  our  power.  There  is  no 
doubt  but  the  most  enlightened  angel  above,  is  less  con- 
ceited of  the  vast  treasures  of  knowledge  he  possesses,  than 
a  student  in  his  first  year  at  the  university,  is  of  the  crude 
and  indigested  smattering  lie  has  gained.  Nor  is  there  any 
room  to  doubt,  that  knowledge  is  more  esteemed  by  those 
sagacious  beings  who  best  know  the  value  of  it,  than  by 
our  shortsighted  species,  who  have  gone  such  inconsider- 
able lengths  in  it. 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  131 

The  present  is  by  no  means  an  age  for  indulging  igno- 
rance. A  person,  who  thinks  to  have  any  credit  among 
mankind,  or  to  make  any  figure  in  conversation,  must  ab- 
solute] v  resolve  to  take  some  pains  in  improving  himself. 
We  find  more  true  knowledge  at  present  in  shops  and 
counting  houses,  than  could  have  been  found  an  age  or 
two  ago  in  universities.  For  the  bulk  of  the  knowledge 
of  those  times  consisted  in  subtle  distinctions,  laborious 
disquisitions,  and  endless  disputes  about  words.  The 
universal  diffusion  of  knowledge,  which  we  observe  at 
present  among  all  ranks  of  people,  took  its  rise  from  the 
publishing  those  admirable  essays,  the  Spectator,  Tatler, 
and  Guardian,  in  which  learned  subjects  were,  by  the  ele- 
gant and  ingenious  authors,  cleared  from  the  scholastic 
rubbish  of  Latin  and  logic,  represented  in  a  familiar  style, 
and  treated  in  a  manner  which  people  of  plain  common 
sense  might  comprehend.  The  practice  of  exhibiting 
courses  of  experiments  in  London,  and  other  great  cities, 
which  was  first  introduced  by  Winston,  Disaguliers,  and 
others,  has  likewise  greatly  contributed  to  the  spreading  a 
taste  for  knowledge  among  the  trading  people,  who  now 
talk  familiarly  of  things,  their  grandfathers  would  have 
thought  it  as  much  as  their  credit  was  worth  to  have  been 
thought  to  know. 

There  is  indeed  greater  danger,  lest  the  flood  of  luxury 
and  vice,  which  overruns  the  nation,  go  on  increasing,  till 
it  destroys  all  that  is  truly  noble  and  valuable  in  the  peo- 
ple. I  need  not  say  danger.  There  is  not  the  least  doubt 
but  the  debauchery  of  modern  times  will  shortly  make  an 
end,  either  of  the  nation  or  of  itself.  The  histories  of  all 
the  states  of  former  times,  where  luxury  has  prevailed, 
sufficiently  show  what  we  have  to  expect.  Howrever,  at 
present,  it  is  absolutely  necessary,  in  order  to  be  on  a  foot- 
ing with  others,  that  we  take  a  little  pains  to  improve  our- 
selves, especially  in  those  parts  of  knowledge  which  enter 
commonly  into  conversation,  as  morals,  history,  and  phy- 
siology. 

Nothing  makes  a  greater  difference  between  one  being 
and  another,  than  different  degrees  of  knowledge.  The 
mind  of  an  ignorant  person  is  an  absolute  void.  That  of 
a  wrongheaded  person  may  be  compared  to  a  town  sack- 
ed by  an  enemy,  where  all  is  overturned,  and  nothing  in 


1J0  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

its  proper  state  or  place.  That  of  a  wise  man  is  a  maga- 
zine richly  furnished.  Their  important  truths  are  stored 
up  in  such  regular  arrangement,  that  reflection  sees  at 
once  through  a  whole  series  of  subjects,  and  observes  dis- 
tinctly their  relations  and  connexions.  We  may  consider 
the  mind  of  an  angelic  being  as  a  vast  palace,  in  which  are 
various  magazines  stored  with  sublime  truths,  the  con- 
templation of  whose  connexions,  relations,  and  various 
beauties,  must  afford  a  happiness  to  us  inconceivable. — 
The  Divine  mind  (if  it  may  be  allowed  us  to  attempt  to 
form  any  faint  idea  of  die  Original  of  all  perfection)  may 
be  considered  as  the  immense  and  unbounded  treasure  ol 
all  truth,  where  the  original  ideas  of  all  things  that  ever 
have  been,  that  now  are,  and  that  ever  shall  be,  or  that  are 
barely  possible,  are  continually  present;  the  continual  con- 
templation of  which  infinitude  of  things,  with  the  infinite 
beauties  resulting  from  their  various  relations  and  con- 
nexions, must  (if  we  may  take  the  liberty  of  the  expres- 
sion) afford  infinite  entertainment  and  delight. 

Thus,  in  proportion  to  the  rank  which  any  being  holds 
in  the  universe,  such  are  his  views  and  his  comprehension 
of  things.  And  I  know  not  whether  the  difference  be 
greater  betwixt  the  most  enlightened  of  our  species,  and 
the  lowest  order  of  angelic  beings  ;  than  downward  from 
the  most  knowing  of  our  species  to  the  most  ignorant. 
To  compare  an  illiterate  clown,  or  even  a  nobleman  sunk 
in  sensuality  and  ignorance,  (for  it  is  the  same  thing 
whether  you  choose  out  of  the  great  vulgar  or  the  small) 
with  a  A'ewton  or  a  Clarke  ;  to  compare,  I  say,  two  minds, 
of  which  the  one  is  wholly  blind  and  insensible  to  every- 
thing above  the  mere  animal  functions,  of  which  a  brute 
is  as  capable  as  he  ;  and  the  other  is  raised  habitually  above 
the  regards  of  sense,  and  is  employed  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  great  and  sublime  truths,  in  searching  into  the  glo- 
rious -works  of  his  Almighty  Maker  in  the  natural  world, 
and  his  profound  scheme  of  government  in  the  moral,  and, 
by  the  force  of  a  stupendous  sagacity,  is  able,  to  pene- 
trate into,  and  lay  open  to  others,  truths  seemingly  beyond 
human  reach ;  by  knowing  more  of  the  Divine  works, 
is  capable  of  forming  more  just  conceptions  of  the  glori- 
ous Author  of  all,  and  consequently  of  paying  him  a  more 
rational  obedience  and  devotion,  of  approaching  nearer  to 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  135 

him;  to  compare  two  minds  so  immensely  different  in 
their  capacities  and  endowments,  what  likeness  appears  to 
determine  ns  to  regard  them  as  of  the  same  species,  and 
not  rather  to  pronounce  the  one  an  angel,  and  the  other  a 
brute "? 

We  see,  therefore,  that  though  there  may  be  no  room 
for  pride  or  self-conceit  on  account  of  our  attainments  in 
knowledge,  since  the  highest  pitch  we  can  possibly  soar  to, 
will  be  but  inconsiderable  in  comparison  with  what  we 
never  can  reach ;  yet  there  is  a  great  deal  of  room  for 
laudable  ambition  ;  since  we  see  it  is  possible  to  excel 
the  bulk  of  our  species,  for  any  thing  we  know,  almost  as 
much  as  an  angel  does  a  brute. 

All  endowments  and  acquisitions  must  have  a  begin- 
ning. Time  was,  when  Sir  Isaac  Neivto?i  did  not  know 
the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  And  the  time  may,  and,  no 
doubt  will  come,  when  the  meanest  of  my  readers,  if  he 
makes  a  proper  use  of  the  natural  abilities,  and  providen-, 
tial  advantages  given  him,  and  studies  to  gain  his  favour, 
in  whose  disposal  all  gifts  and  endowments  are,  will  ex- 
ceed not  only  the  pitch  to  which  the  above-mentioned  pro- 
digy of  our  species  reached,  but  will  rise  to  a  station 
above  that  which  the  highest  archangel  in  heaven  fills  at 
present,  though  the  distance  must  still  continue.  And 
no  one  knows  what  immense  advantage  it  may  be  of,  to 
have  endeavoured,  even  in  this  imperfect  state,  to  get  our 
minds  opened,  by  the  access  of  new  ideas  and  views  ;  to 
have  habituated  ourselves  to  examine,  to  compare,  to  re- 
flect, and  distinguish.  It  is  evident  that  all  these  exer- 
cises of  the  understanding  must  be  absolutely  necessary 
in  any  future  state  whatever,  for  enlarging  the  sphere  of 
our  knowledge,  and  ennobling  our  minds.  And  what  an 
advantage  must  it  be  for  future  states  to  have  begun  :he 
work  here  that  is  to  be  carried  on  to  eternity  ?  To  what 
end  does  religion,  and  even  reason  direct  us  to  mortify  our 
passions  and  appetites,  to  habituate  our  minds  to  the  con- 
templation of  those  high  and  heavenly  things  we  hope  to 
come  one  day  to  the  enjoyment  of?  No  doubt,  it  is  ne- 
cessary, in  the  nature  of  things,  that  our  minds,  in  their 
present  infant  state  (as  this  may  very  properly  be  called) 
be  formed  and  disciplined,  by  custom  and  habit,  to  that 
temper  and  character,  which  is  to  be  hereafter  their  glory, 


OF  KNOWLEDGE; 

their  perfection,  and  their  happiness.  Transfer  the  view 
from  practise  to  knowledge,  and  you  will  find,  that  the 
analogy  will  hold  good  there  likewise.     It  is  necessary 

that  we  cultivate  to  the  utmost  all  the  faculties  of  our 
souls  in  the  present  state,  in  order  to  their  arriving  at 
higher  degrees  of  perfection  hereafter.  And  no  rational 
mind  ever  will,  or  can  rise  to  any  high  degree  of  perfection 
in  any  state  whatever,  and  continue  in  ignorance.  For  if 
the  definition  of  a  rational  mind  be,  "A  being  endowed 
with  understanding  and  will,"  (I  mention  only  the  two 
principal  faculties)  there  is  no  doubt  but  it  is  equally  ne- 
cessary to  the  perfection,  and  consequently  to  the  happi- 
ness of  every  rational  being,  that  its  understanding  be  en- 
larged and  improved  by  knowledge,  as  that  its  will  be 
formed  and  directed  by  a  sense  of  duty.  To  put  the  matter 
upon  its  proper  footing,  we  ought  to  consider  the  improve- 
ment of  every  faculty  of  our  minds  as  apart  of  virtue,  of 
which  afterwards.  And  in  doing  so,  we  shall  find,  that 
there  ought  to  be  no  distinction  between  the  love  of  knowl- 
edge and  of  virtue  ;  it  being  evident,  that  the  proper  im- 
provement and  due  conduct  of  the  understanding  is  an  in- 
dispensable part  of  the  duty  of  every  rational  being.  Just 
sentiments  of  the  supreme  governor  of  the  world,  of  our 
own  nature  and  state,  of  the  fitness  and  propriety  of  moral 
good,  and  the  fatal  effects  of  irregularity,  are  the  only  sure 
foundation  of  goodness.  Now,  to  attain  full  and  clear  no- 
tions  of  these,  it- will  be  necessary  to  make  pretty  exten- 
sive inquiries,  to  carry  our  researches  a  considerable  way 
into  the  works  of  God,  from  whence  we  draw  the  clearest 
conceptions  of  his  nature  and  attributes;  to  study  our 
own  nature  and  state,  with  the  various  passions,  appetites, 
and  inclinations  which  enter  into  our  constitution;  the  con- 
nexions and  relations  we  stand  in  to  one  another  ;  and  the 
different  natures  and  consequences  of  actions,  according  to 
the  motives  the}"  spring  from,  and  the  circumstances  which 
diversify  them.  All  this,  I  say,  will  be  of  immense  ad- 
vantage for  raising  us  above  vice,  and  confirming  us  in  a 
steady  course  of  virtue,  which  is  the  direct  tendency  of 
all  true  knowledge,  and  the  effect  it  never  fails  to  produce 
in  every  honest  and  uncorrupted  mind. 

Arid  though  ic   must  be  owned,   that  an  illiterate  day- 
labourer  who  earns  bjs  living  by  hedging  and  ditching, 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  135 

who  is  devout  toward  his  God,  and  benevolent  to  his 
neighbour,  is  a  much  nobler  and  more  valuable  being  in 
the  sight  of  his  Maker,  than  the  most  accomplished  cour- 
tier, who  supports  his  grandeur  by  the  wages  of  iniquity  ; 
nay,  though  it  is  evident,  that  great  knowledge  will  even 
make  a  wicked  being  the  worse,  as  it  enables  him  to  be 
more  extensively  wicked ;  it  does  not  therefore  follow, 
that  knowledge  is  of  no  consequence  to  virtue  ;  but  only 
that  vice  is  of  so  fatal  and  destructive  a  nature,  as  to  poison 
and  pervert  the  best  things  where  it  enters.  If  the  above 
dav-labourer,  by  the  mere  goodness  of  his  heart,  may  be 
acceptable  to  God,  and  esteemed  by  ail  good  men,  how 
much  higher  might  he  have  risen,  with  the  addition  of  exten- 
sive improvements  in  knowledge?  Could  ever  a  If'oolastoi: 
or  a  Cudworth  have  formed  such  just,  or  such  sublime 
notions  of  virtue  and  of  spiritual  things "?  Could  they  ever 
have  arrived  at  the  pitch  of  goodness  themselves  reached, 
or  could  they  have  represented  it  in  the  amiable  lights 
they  have  done,  so  as  to  gain  others  to  the  study  and 
practice  of  it,  without  extensively  improved  abilities  '? 

Enough,  methinks,  has  therefore  been  said  to  invite 
readers,  especially  the  younger  sort,  to  engage  in  the  truly 

noble  and  worthv  labour  of  improving-  their  minds,  rather 

•»  .  *  p  . 

than  indulging  their  senses  :  of  cultivating  the  immortal 

part,  rather  than  pampering  the  body  ;  of  aspiring  to  a 
resemblance  of  the  nature  of  angels,  rather  than  sinking 
themselves  to  the  rank  of  brutes. 

It  is  amazing  and  delightful  to  consider,  what  seeming- 
ly difficult  things  are  done  by  means  of  human  knowledge, 
scanty  and  confined  as  it  is.  The  wonders  performed  by 
means  of  reading  and  writing  are  so  striking,  that  some 
learned  men  have  given  it  as  their  opinion,  that  the  whole- 
was  communicated  to  mankind  originally  by  some  supe- 
rior being.  That  by  means  of  the  various  compositions 
of  about  twenty  different  articulations  of  the  human  voice. 
performed  by  the  assistance  of  the  lungs,  the  glottis,  the 
tongue,  the  lips,  and  the  teeth,  ideas  of  all  sensible  and 
intelligible  objects  in  nature,  in  art,  in  science,  in  history, 
in  morals,  in  supernaturals,  should  be  communicable  from 
one  mind  to  another ;  and  again,  that  signs  should  be  con- 
trived, by  which  those  articulations  of  the  human  voict: 
should  be  expressed,  so  as  to  be  communicable  from  one 


136  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

mind  to  another  by  the  eye  ;  this  seems  really  beyond  the 
reach  of  humanity  left  to  itself.  To  imagine,  for  exam- 
ple, the  first  of  mankind  capable  of  inventing  any  set  of 
sounds,  which  should  be  fit  to  communicate  to  one 
another  the  idea  of  what  is  meant  by  the  words  virtue  or 
rectitude,  or  any  other  idea  wholly  unconnected  with  any 
kind  of  sound  whatever,  and  afterwards  of  inventing  a  set 
of  signs,  v.  hich  should  give  the  mind  by  the  eye,  an  idea 
of  what  is  properly  an  object  of  the  sense  of  hearing  ;  (as 
a  word  when  expressed  with  the  voice,  represents  an  idea, 
which  is  the  mere  object  of  the  understanding)  to  imagine 
mankind,  in  the  first  ages  of  the  world,  without  any  hint 
from  superior  beings,  capable  of  this,  seems  doing  too 
great  honour  to  our  nature.  Be  that  as  it  will ;  that  one 
man  should,  by  uttering  a  set  of  sounds  no  way  connect- 
ed with,  or  naturally  representative  of  one  set  of  ideas 
more  than  another  ;  that  one  man  should,  by  such  seem* 
ingly  unfit  means,  enlighten  the  understanding,  rouse  the 
passions,  delight  or  terrify  the  imagination  of  another ; 
and  that  he  should  not  only  be  able  to  do  this  when  pre- 
sent, viva  voce;  but  that  he  should  produce  the  same 
effect  by  a  set  of  figures  no  way  naturally  fit  to  represent 
either  the  ideas  he  would  communicate,  or  (less  still)  the 
articulate  sounds,  which  are  themselves  but  representa- 
tives of  ideas ;  and  that  he  should  affect  another  person  at 
pleasure,  at  the  distance  of  five  thousand  miles,  and  with 
as  much  precision  and  accuracy  as  if  he  were  upon  the 
spot,  nay,  as  if  he  could  open  to  him  his  mind,  and  give 
him  to  apprehend  the  ideas  as  they  lie  there  in  their  origi- 
nal state,  is  truly  admirable.  The  translating  (so  to 
speak)  ideas  into  sounds,  the  translating  those  sounds  into 
visible  objects,  the  translating  one  set  of  those  visible  ob- 
jects into  another,  or  turning  one  language  into  another, 
as  Hebrcxv,  Greek,  or  Latin,  into  English  ;  all  this,  if  we 
were  not  familiar  with  it,  would  appear  a  sort  of  magic  ; 
but  our  being  accustomed  to  it,  does  not  lessen  its  real 
excellence. 

Again,  if  wc  consider  what  strange  things  are  commonly 
done  by  every  novice  in  numbers,  wc  cannot  help  admir 
ing  the  excellence  of  knowledge.     To  tell  an  Indian,  that 
a  boy  of  twelve  years  of  age,   could  by  making  a  few 
scrawls    upon   paper,  determine  the   number   of  barley- 


OF  KNOWLEDGE,  137 

corns,  which  would  go  round  the  globe  of  the  earth ; 
would  strangely  startle  him  !  To  talk  to  one  unacquainted 
with  the  first  principles  of  arithmetic,  of  adding  together 
a  set  of  numbers,  as  five  thousand  five  hundred  and  fifty- 
five,  six  thousand  six  hundred  and  sixty-six,  seven  thou- 
sand seven  hundred  and  seventy-seven,  and  so  on  ;  to  the 
number  of  twenty  or  thirty  lines  of  figures,  especially,  if 
those  lines  consisted  of  a  great  many  places  of  figures., 
going  on  to  hundreds  of  thousands,  millions,  billions,  tril 
lions,  and  so  on,  to  tell  such  a  person,  that  it  was  not  only 
possible,  but  even  that  nothing  was  more  easy  or  trifling;, 
than  to  determine  the  whole  amount  of  such  a  set  of  num- 
bers, and  that  without  mistaking  a  single  unit ;  all  this  would 
seem  to  the  untutored  Indian  utterly  incredible  and  impos- 
sible !  To  tell  a  Barbarian,  that  nothing  was  more  common, 
than  for  traders  in  this  part  of  the  world,  to  buy  in  goods  to 
the  value  of  many  thousand  pounds,  to  sell  them  out  again 
in  parcels,  not  exceeding  the  value  of  ten  or  twenty  shil- 
lings each,  to  receive  in  their  money  only  once  a  year,  and 
yet  they  committed  no  considerable  mistake,  nor  suffered 
any  material  loss  in  the  dealings  of  many  years  together, 
through  error  or  miscalculation ;  he  would  conclude,  that 
either  those  traders  had  memories  above  the  usual  rate  of 
human  nature,  or  that  they  had  supernatural  assistance  ! 
Yet  all  that  has  been  hitherto  mentioned,  and  a  thousand 
times  more,  is  what  we  find  persons  of  the  meanest  natural 
endowments,  and  the  narrowest  educations,  capable  of  ac- 
quiring !  That  by  observing  with  so  simple  an  instru- 
ment as  a  quadrant,  the  apparent  altitude  of  the  pole  at 
one  place,  and  travelling  on,  till  we  find  it  elevated  a 
degree,  that  from  thence  we  should  determine  with  un- 
doubted certainty,  the  real  circuit  of  the  whole  globe  of 
the  earth,  and  consequently  its  diameter  and  semidiame- 
ter!  That  by  aiVobservation  of  the  parallax  of  the  moon, 
which  is  not  difficult  to  take,  with  a  few  deductions  and 
calculations,  we  should,  by  knowing  the  proportion  be- 
tween the  unknown  sides  and  angles  of  a  triangle  and  those 
which  are  known,  and  by  forming  a  .triangle  according  to 
observation,  the  base  of  which  to  represent  the  earth's 
semidiameter,  be  as  sure  of  the  distance  from  the  earth 
to  the  moon,  as  we  are  of  the  distance  and  height  of  a 
tower,  viewed  at  two  stations  !    That  astronomers  should 

S 


138  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

thence  proceed  through  all  their  wonderful  discoveries 
and  calculations :  the  consideration  of  these  things  gives 
no  contemptible  idea  of  human  knowledge.  If  we  pro- 
ceed to  the  calculation  of  eclipses,  determining  the  revo- 
lutions and  paths  of  comets,  and  so  forth,  we  cannot  help 
looking  upon  the  degree  of  knowledge  we  are  capable  of 
attaining,  as  highly  worthy  our  attention,  and  viewing  our 
own  nature,  as  truly  great  and  sublime,  and  the  Divine 
Goodness  as  highly  adorable,  which  has  endowed  our 
minds  with  abilities  in  themselves  so  wonderful,  and 
promising  of  endless  improvements  and  enlargements  ! 

In  what  light  then  ought  we  to  view  those  groveling 
and  meanspirited  mortals,  who  make  a  pride  of  declaring 
their  contempt  of  knowledge  ?  Did  one  hear  a  vicious 
person  expressing  his  contempt  of  honesty  and  virtue, 
should  we  think  the  more  meanly  of  them,  or  of  him?  In 
the  same  manner,  when  a  shallow  fop  sneers  at  what  he 
does  not  understand,  his  low  raillery  ought  to  cast  no  re- 
flection upon  learning ;  but  he  is  to  be  considered  as  sunk 
from  the  dignity  of  reason,  and  so  far  degenerated  as  to 
make  his  ignorance  his  pride,  which  ought  to  be  his 
shame. 

If  we  cast  our  eyes  backward  upon  past  times,  or  if  we 
take  a  view  of  the  present  state  of  the  world,  if  we  consid- 
er whole  nations,  or  single  persons,  nothing  so  fills  the  im- 
agination, or  engages  the  attention,  as  the  conspicuous  and 
illustrious  honours  of  knowledge  and  learning.  The  an- 
cient Egyptians,  the  fathers  of  wisdom ;  studious  Atheni- 
ans, the  cultivators  of  every  elegant  art;  the  wise  Jtotnans, 
the  zealous  imitators  of  learned  Greece;  how  come  these 
nations  to  shine,  like  constellations,  through  the  deeps  of 
that  universal  mist  which  involves  the  rest  of  antiquity  ? 
How  come  the  Pythagoras'',  the  Aristot/es,  the  Tul/ys, 
the  Livys  to  appear,  even  to  us  at  this  distance,  as  stars  of 
the  first  magnitude  in  the  vast  fields  of  aether  ?  How  comes 
it  that  Africa,  since  the  setting  of  learning  in  that  quarter 
of  the  world,  has  been  the  habitation  of  obscurity  and  cru- 
elty? What  is  the  disgrace  of  wild  Indians,  and  swinish 
Hottentots?  Is  it  not  their  brutish  ignorance?  What 
makes  our  island  to  differ  so  much  from  the  aspect  it  had 
when  Julius  Ccvsar  landed  on  our  coast,  and  found  us  a 
flock  of  painted  savages,  scampering  naked  through  the 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  139 

woods  ?  What  nation  makes  such  an  appearance  now,  as 
England,  wherever  knowledge  is  valued  ?  What  names  of 
ancient  warriors  make  so  great  a  figure  on  the  roll  of  fame, 
or  shine  so  bright  in  wisdom's  eye,  as  those  of  the  improv- 
ers of  arts  and  sciences,  who  have  risen  in  our  island? 
Who  would  not  rather,  in  our  times,  who  know  to  des- 
pise romantic  heroism,  choose  to  have  his  name  enroled 
with  those  of  a  Bacon,  a  Boyle,  a  Clarke,  or  a  Newton, 
the  friends  of  mankind,  the  guides  to  truth,  the  improvers 
of  the  human  mind,  the  honours  of  our  nature  and  our 
world ;  than  to  have  a  place  among  the  Alexanders,  the 
C<esars,  the  Lewis' ',  or  the  Charles\*  the  scourges  and 
butchers  qf  their  fellow- creatures? 


SECTION  I. 

Of  Education  from  Infancy.  Absolute  Necessity, and  proper 
Method,  of  laying  a  Foundation  of  Moral  Knowledge. 

HAVING  already  treated  in  part,  of  so  much  of  the 
education  of  young  children  as  falls  under  the  care  of  the 
parents,  I  will  now,  for  the  sake  of  exhibiting  at  once  a 
comprehensive  view  of  the  whole  improvement  of  the 
mind,  begin  from  infancy  itself;  and  lay  down  a  general 
plan  of  knowledge,  and  the  method  of  acquiring  it.  And 
I  doubt  not  but  the  reader  will  own,  that  a  genius  natur- 
ally good,  and  which  has  been  cultivated  in  the  manner 
here  to  be  described,  may  be  said  to  have  had  most  of  the 
advantages  necessary  for  attaining  the  highest  perfection 
of  human  nature,  of  which  this  state  is  capable. 

First,  and  above  all  things,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  and 
cannot  be  too  often  inculcated,  that,  from  the  time  a  child 
can  speak,  throughout  the  whole  course  of  education,  the. 
forming  of  the  temper  to  meekness  and  obedience,  regula- 
ting the  passions  and  appetites  and  habituating  the  mind  to 
the  love  and  practice  of  virtue,  is  the  great,  the  constant, 
and  growing  labour,  without  which  all  other  culture  is  ab- 
solute trifling.  Nor  is  this  to  be  done  by  fits  and  starts, 
nor  this  most  important  of  all  knowledge  to  be  superfi- 
cially or  partially  communicated.  Every  obligation  of  mo- 

\nd  Burgh,  had  he  lived,  might  have  added,  thQ  Bonaparte *.— Publi  '     , 


14^>  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

rality  ;  every  duty  of  life,  every  beauty  of  virtue,  and  de- 
formity of  vice  is  to  be  particularly  set  forth,  and  represent 
ed  m  every  Afferent  light.     It  is  not  a  few  scraps  ^S 
things  got  by  memory,  nor  a  few  particular  lessons  Jven 

\\  thou  laying  before  the  young  mind  a  rational,  a  com- 
plete and  perfect  system  of  morals,  and  of  Christianity  the 
work  will  be  defective  and  unfinished.     ThSe  mpoAan^ 

lost  sight  of;   raised  from  every  occasion  and  opportu- 
nity;   improved  and  enlarged  as  reason  opens-     vorked 
into  every  faculty  of  the  soul ;    begun  bv  parents;  " 
on  by  the  master  or  tutor;  established  by  the  man  himself 
v.hen  of  age  to  inquire  and  to  act  for  himself4;    studied 
every  day  and  every  hour  while  one  faculty  remains  capa 
We  of  exerting  itself  in  the  mind  ;  and  the  man,  when  M 
of  years   must  still  proceed,  and  at  last  go  out  of  the  world 
engaged  in  the  important  study  of  his  duty,  andmeansfor 
a  taningthe  happiness  and  perfection  for  which  he  was 
brought  into  being. 

The  knowledge  of  morality  and  Christianity  is  the  ab- 
so  utely  indispensable  part  of  education.  For  what  avails 
it  now  knowing  a  person  is  in  speculative  science,  if  he 
knows  not  how  to  be  useful  and  happy?  If  this  work  be 
neglected  in  the  earlier  part  of  life  it  must  be  owing  to 
some  very  favourable  circumstances,  if  the  person  turns 
out  well  afterwards.  For  the  human  mind  resembles  a 
piece  of  ground  which  will  by  no  means  lie  wholly  bear- 
but  will  either  bring  forth  weeds  or  fruits,  according  as  i 
is  cultivated  or  neglected.  And  according  as  the  habits 
of  vice  and  irrehgion,  or  the  contrary,  get  the  first  posses- 
sion of  the  mmd,  such  is  the  future  man  like  to  be. 

Ue  see  that  the  gross  superstitions  and  monstrous  ab- 
surdities ox  popery,  by  the  mere  circumstance  of  their 
being  early  planted  in  the  mind,  arc  not  to  be  eradicated 
afterwards,  though  it  is  certain,  that  as  reason  opens,  and 
the  judgment  matures,  they  must  appear  still  more  and 
more  shocking  With  how  great  advantage,  then  may 
we  establish  m  the  minds  of  young  ones  the  principles  of 
a  religion  strictly  rational,  and  that  will  appear  the  more 
so,  the  more  it  is  examined. 

It  is  plain,  that  early  youth  is  the  fittest  season  of  life 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  Ul 

for  establishing  first  principles  of  any  kind,  because  then 
the  mind  is  u  holly  disengaged  from  the  pursuits  which  af- 
terwards take  possession  of  it.  And  the  know  ledge  of 
right  and  wrong  is  indeed  the  most  level  to  all  capacities 
of  any  science  whatever.  For  we  are  properly  moral 
agents,  and  are  naturally  qualified  with  sufficient  abilities 
to  understand  the  obligations  of  morality,  when  laid  be- 
fore us,  if  we  can  but  be  prevailed  with  to  observe  them 
in  our  practice  ;  for  which  purpose  the  most  effectual 
method,  no  doubt,  is  to  have  them  early  inculcated  upon 
us. 

We  do  not  think  it  proper  to  leave  our  children  to 
themselves,  to  find  out  the  sciences  of  grammar,  or  num- 
bers, or  the  knowledge  of  languages,  or  the  art  of  writing, 
or  of  a  profession  to  live  by.  And  shall  we  leave  them 
to  settle  the  boundaries  of  right  and  wrong  by  their  own 
sagacity  ;  or  to  neglect,  or  misunderstand,  a  religion,  which 
God  himself  has  condescended  to  give  us,  as  the  rule  of 
our  faith  and  practice  ?  What  can  it  signify  to  a  youth,  that 
he  go  through  all  the  liberal  sciences,  if  he  is  ignorant  of 
the  rules  by  which  he  ought  to  live,  and  by  which  he  is 
to  be  judged  at  last.  Will  Greek  or  Latin  alone  gain 
him  the  esteem  of  the  wise  and  virtuous  ?  or  will  philoso- 
phy and  mathematics  save  his  soul  ? 

I  know  of  but  one  objection  against  the  importance  of 
what  I  am  urging,  which  is  taken  from  the  deplorable  de- 
generacy, we  sometimes  observe  the  children  of  pious  and 
virtuous  parents  run  into,  who  have  had  the  utmost  pains 
taken  with  them,  to  give  them  a  turn  to  virtue  and  good- 
ness. 

But  is  it  not  in  some  cases  to  be  feared,  that  parents, 
through  a  mistaken  notion  of  the  true  method  of  giving 
youth  a  religious  turn,  often  run  into  the  extreme  of  surfeit- 
ing them  with  religious  exercises,  instead  of  labouring 
chiefly  to  enlighten  and  convince  their  understandings,  and 
to  form  their  tempers  to  obedience.  The  former,  though 
noble  and  valuable  helps,  appointed  by  Divine  Wisdom  for 
promoting  virtue  and  goodness,  may  yet  be  so  managed  as 
to  disgust  a  young  mind,  and  prejudice  it  against  religion 
for  life  ;  but  the  latter,  properly  conducted,  will  prove  an 
endlessly  various  entertainment.  There  is  not  a  duty  of 
morality  you  can  have  occasion   to  inculcate,    but  what 


142  OF  KNOWLEDGE 

may  give  an  opportunity  of  raising  some  entertaining  ob- 
servation, or  introducing  some  amusing  history ;  and 
nothing  can  be  more  striking  than  the  accounts  of  su- 
pernatural things,  of  which  Holy  Scripture  is  full.  And 
though  it  may  sometimes  happen,  that  a  vouth  well 
brought  up  may,  by  the  force  of  temptation,  run  into  fatal 
errors  in  afterlife,  yet  such  a  one,  it  must  be  owned,  has 
a  much  better  chance  of  recovering  the  right  way,  than 
one  who  never  was  put  in  it.  I  am  ashamed  to  add  any- 
more upon  this  head  ;  it  being  a  kind  of  affront  to  the  un- 
derstandings of  mankind,  to  labour  to  convince  them  of 
a  truth  as  evident  as  that  the  sun  shines  at  noonday. 

That  it  may  unquestionably  appear  to  be  fully  practica- 
ble for  a  parent,  or  tutor,  to  establish  youth,  from  the  ten- 
derest  years,  in  principles  of  virtue  and  religion,  by  rea- 
son, not  by  authority,  by  understanding,  not  by  rote  ;  I 
will  here  add  a  sketch  of  what  I  know  may  be  taught  with 
success. 

A  parent  in  any  station  of  life  whatever,  may,  and 
ought  to  bestow  sometime  every  day,  in  instructing  his 
children  in  the  most  useful  of  all  knowledge;  Half  an 
hour,  or  an  hour  every  day,  will  be  sufficient  to  go  through 
a  great  deal  of  such  sort  of  work  in  a  year.  And  what 
parent  will  pretend,  that  he  cannot  find  half  an  hour  a  day 
for  the  most  important  of  all  business  ?  At  three  or  four 
years  of  age,  a  child  of  ordinary  parts  is  capable  of  being 
shown  and  convinced,  "  That  obedience  is  better  than 
perverseness  ;  that  good-nature  is  more  amiable  than  peev- 
ishness ;  that  knowledge  is  preferable  to  ignorance;  that 
it  is  wicked  to  dissemble,  to  use  any  one  ill,  to  be  cruel  to 
birds,  or  insects ;  that  it  is  wrong  to  do  any  thing  to 
another,  which  one  would  not  wish  done  to  one's  self;  that 
the  world  was  made  by  one  who  is  very  great,  wise,  and 
good,  who  is  every  where,  and  knows  every  thing  that  is 
thought,  spoke  or  done  by  men  ;  that  there  will  be  a  time 
when  all,  that  ever  lived,  will  be  judged  by  God  ;  and 
that  they,  who  have  been  good,  will  goto  heaven  among 
the  angels,  and  those  who  have  been  wicked,  to  hell  among 
evil  spirits." 

There  are  few  children  of  three  or  four  years  of  age, 
who  are  not  capable  of  having  their  understandings  open- 
ed, and  their  minds  formed,  by  such  simple  principles 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  143 

as  these  ;  and  these,  simple  as  they  seem,  are  the  ground- 
work of  morality  and  religion. 

As  the  faculties  strengthen,  farther  views  may  by  de- 
grees be  presented  to  the  opening  mind  ;  and  every  lesson 
illustrated  and  inculcated  by  instances  taken  from  the  Bi- 
ble, and  other  books,  or  from  characters  known  to  the 
teacher.  The  asking  questions  upon  every  head  and 
bringing  in  little  familiar  stories  proper  for  the  occasion, 
will  keep  up  a  young  one's  attention,  and  make  such  ex- 
ercises extremely  entertaining,  without  which  they  will 
not  be  useful. 

Besides  ail  set  hours  for  instruction,  a  prudent  parent 
will  contrive  to  apply  as  much  spare  time  as  possible  that 
way,  and  to  bring  in  some  useful  and  instructive  hint  on 
every  occasion  ;  or  to  moralize  upon  the  blowing  of  a  feath- 
er, and  read  a  lecture  on  a  pile  of  grass,  or  a  flower. 

Can  any  one  think,  that  such  a  method  of  giving  "  line 
upon  line,  precept  upon  precept,  here  a  little  and  there  a 
little,"  is  likely  to  miss  having  a  considerable  effect  upon 
the  mind,  for  leading  it  to  an  early  habit  of  attending  to 
the  nature  and  consequences  of  actions,  of  desiring  to 
please,  and  fearing  to  offend,  which  if  poeple  could  but  be 
brought  to  accustom  themselves  to  from  their  youth,  they 
would  never,  in  afterlife,  act  the  rash  and  desperate  part 
we  see  many  do. 

Nor  is  there  any  thing  to  hinder  a  master  of  a  private 
place  of  education  to  bestow  generally  an  hour  every  day, 
and  more  on  Sundays,  in  instructing  the  youth  under  his 
care  in  the  principles  of  prudence,  morality,  and  religion. 
This  may  be  digested  into  a  scheme  of  twenty  or  thirty 
lectures,  beginning  from  the  very  foundation,  and  going- 
through  all  the  principal  particulars  of  our  duty  to  God, 
our  neighbour,  and  ourselves,  and  from  thence  proceeding 
to  a  view  of  the  fundamental  doctrines,  evidences,  and 
laws  of  revealed  religion.  In  all  which  there  is  nothing 
but  what  may  be  brought  down  to  the  apprehension  of 
very  young  minds,  by  proceeding  gently,  and  suiting  one's 
expression  to  the  weak  capacities  of  the  learners ;  doing 
all  by  way  of  question,  without  which  it  is  impossible  to 
keep  up  their  attention,  and  in  the  manner  of  familiar  dia- 
logue, rather  than  a  set  harangue,  or  magisterial  precept. 

Above  all  things  care  oviprht  to  be  taken,  that  religious 


144  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

knowledge  be  as  little  as  possible  put  on  the  looting  of  a 
task.  A  parent,  or  teacher,  who  communicates  his  instruc- 
tions oi'  this  kind  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  tire  or  disgust  the 
young  mind,  though  he  may  mean  well,  does  more  harm 
than  good.  A  young  person  will  have  a  better  chance  for 
taking  to  a  course  of  virtue  and  religion,  if  left  wholly  to 
himself,  than  if  set  against  theni  by  a  wrong  method  of 
education.  The  mind,  like  a  spring,  if  unnaturally  forced 
one  way,  will,  when  let  loose,  recoil  so  much  the  more  vio- 
lently the  contrary  way. 

The  first  Sunday  evening's  conversation,  between  the 
master  and  pupils  in  a  place  of  education,  might  be  upon 
happiness  in  general.  Questions  might  be  put  to  the  eldest 
of  the  youth,  as  whether  they  did  not  desire  to  secure  their 
own  happiness  in  the  most  effectual  way  ;  or  if  they  would 
be  content  to  be  happy  for  a  few  years,  and  take  their 
chance  afterwards.  They  might  be  asked,  what  they 
thought  happiness  consisted  in,  if  in  good  eating,  drink- 
ing, play,  and  fine  clothes  only ;  or  whether  they  did  not 
think  a  creature  capable  of  thought,  of  doing  good  or 
evil  and  of  living  forever  in  a  future  state,  ought  to  make 
some  provision  of  a  happiness  suitable  to  its  spiritual  part. 
For  illustrating  this,  they  might  be  asked  wherein  they 
thought  the  respective  happiness  of  a  beast,  a  man,  and  an 
angel  consisted.  They  might  be  taught  partly  what  makes 
the  difference  of  those  natures,  and  some  general  account 
given  them  of  the  nature  of  man,  his  faculties,  passions,  and 
appetites.  They  might  be  asked,  whether  they  did  not 
think,  that  the  only  certain  means  for  attaining  the  great- 
est happiness  mankind  are  capable  of,  was  to  endeavour 
to  gain  the  favour  of  God,  who  has  all  possible  happiness 
in  his  power. 

The  next  Sunday  evening's  conversation  might  be  up- 
on the  most  likely  means  for  gaining  the  favour  of  God, 
in  order  to  securing  happiness.  The  youth  might  be  ask- 
ed,  whether  they  did  not  think  there  was  a  difference  in 
the  conduct  of  different  persons,  and  in  the  effects  of 
their  behaviour  upon  the  affairs  of  the  world.  Instances 
might  be  made  use  of,  to  show  in  general,  that  the  natu- 
ral tendency  of  a  virtuous  behaviour  is  to  diffuse  happi- 
ness, and  that  vice  naturally  prcduces  confusion  and  mis- 
erv.     Thcv  nwht  be  asked,  what  would  be  the  conse- 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  145 

quence,  if  all  men  gave  themselves  to  drunkenness,  and 
other  kinds  of  intemperance;  or  to  cruelty  and  vio- 
lence ;  and  might  be  made  to  see,  that  if  all  men  were 
wicked  the  world  could  by  no  means  subsist.  From 
thence  they  might  be  led  on  to  conclude,  that  it  was  to 
be  expected  that  vice  would  always  be  displeasing  to  God ; 
that  consequently  none  but  the  virtuous  could  reasonably 
expect  to  be  finally  happys  however  they  might  be  suf- 
fered to  pass  through  the  present  life.  They  might  then 
be  shown,  that  all  the  good  or  bad  actions  of  men  must 
relate  either  to  themselves,  to  their  fellow  creatures,  or  to 
God.  And  that  whatever  action  can  have  no  effect  either 
upon  one's  self,  or  any  other  person,  and  is  neither  pleas- 
ing nor  displeasing  to  God,  cannot  be  called  either  virtu- 
ous or  vicious. 

The  subject  of  the  third  evening's  conversation  might 
be  the  introduction  to  the  first  head  of  duty,  viz.  that 
which  relates  to  ourselves.  The  youth  might  be  shown 
the  propriety  of  beginning  with  that,  as  it  is  necessary  to- 
wards a  person's  behaving  well  to  others,  that  his  own 
mind  be  in  good  order.  They  might  be  taught,  that  our 
duty  to  ourselves,  consists  in  the  due  care  of  our  minds, 
and  of  our  bodies.  They  might  be  asked,  whether  they 
did  not  think  the  understanding  was  to  be  improved  with 
useful  knowledge  ;  the  memory  cultivated  and  habituated 
for  retaining  important  truths  ;  the  will  subdued  to  obe- 
dience; and  the  passions  subjected  to  the  authority  of 
reason.  They  might  be  shown  in  a  few  general  instances 
what  would  be  the  consequence  if  none  of  these  was 
to  be  done ;  what  a  condition  the  mind  must  be  in,  which 
is  neglected,  and  suffered  to  run  to  absolute  misrule. 
They  might  then  be  informed  briefly  of  the  uses  and  ends 
of  the  passions,  and  their  proper  conduct. 

The  conversation  the  fourth,  and  one  or  two  succeeding 
evenings,  might  proceed  to  the  necessity  and  means  of  re- 
gulating the  several  passions,  whose  excess,  and  the  bad 
consequences  of  such  excess,  might  be  pointed  out.  The 
passions  not  to  be  rooted  up,  but  put  under  proper  regu- 
lations. Excess  in  the  indulgence  of  them,  how  first  run 
into,  and  cautious  to  guard  against  it.  Of  self-love,  self- 
opinion  or  pride,  ambition,  anger,  envy,  malice,  revenge, 
and  the  rest ;  of  which  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to  treat 

T 


146  of  knowledge: 

pretty  copiously  in  the  third  book,  1  si  mil  add  nothing 
farther  at  present,  but  refer  the  reader  thither  for  a  method 
of  treating  them,  which  may  with  advantage  be  used  in 
instructing  youth,  excluding  what  may  be  thought  too 
abstract  for  their  apprehension.  For  masters  are  to  pro- 
ceed  with  prudence,  according  to  the  various  capacities  of 
the  youth  under  their  care ;  never  taking  it  for  granted, 
that  such  and  such  parts  of  moral  knowledge  are  beyond 
their  reach ;  but  putting  their  capacities  to  a  thorough 
trial,  which  will  show,  contrary  to  common  opinion,  how 
early  the  human  mind  is  capable  of  comprehending  very 
noble  and  extensive  moral  views. 

To  treat  of  the  due  regulation  of  the  bodily  appetites, 
as  they  are  commonly  called,  will  be  employment  for  seve- 
ral evenings.  The  love  of  life,  of  riches,  of  food,  of 
strong  liquors,  of  sleep,  of  the  opposite  sex,  (a  subject 
to  be  very  slightly  touched  on)  of  diversions,  of  finery  ; 
the  due  regulation  of  each  of  these  is  to  be  pointed  out, 
and  the  fatal  consequences  of  too  great  an  indulgence  of 
them  as  strongly  as  possible  set  forth  ;  with  cautions 
against  the  snares  by  which  young  people  are  first  led  in- 
to sensuality,  and  methods  of  prevention  or  reformation. 
Of  all  which  I  shall  likewise  have  occasion  to  treat  in  the 
third  book.  The  virtues  contrary  to  the  excessive  indul- 
gence of  passion  and  appetite,  ought  to  be  strongly  re- 
commended, as  humility,  meekness,  moderation  in  desires, 
consideration,  and  contentment.  And  it  is  not  enough 
that  young  persons  understand  theoretically  wherein  a 
good  disposition  of  mind  consists.  They  are  to  be  held 
to  the  strict  observance  of  it  in  their  whole  behaviour. 
One  instance  of  malice,  cruelty,  or  deceit,  is  a  fault  more 
necessary  to  be  punished,  than  the  neglect  of  some  hun- 
dreds of  tasks.  And  it  must  appear  to  every  understand- 
ing, that  the  keeping  a  youth  under  proper  regulations, 
even  by  mechanical  means,  is  of  great  advantage,  as  he 
will  thereby  be  habituated  to  what  is  good,  and  must  find 
a  vicious  course  unnatural  to  him.  And  there  is  no  doubt 
but  the  minds  of  youth  may  be  rationally,  as  well  as  me- 
chanically formed  to  virtue,  by  the  prudent  conduct  and 
instructions  of  masters,  where  parents  will  givetheir  con- 
currence and  sanction. 

Several  evenings  may  be  employed  in  giving  the  youth 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  147 

a  view  of  our  duty  to  our  neighbour,  under  which  the 
relative  duties  ought  to  be  considered ;  and  particularly 
that  fundamental,  but  now  unknown,  virtue  of  the  love  of 
our  country,  very  strongly  recommended.  Materials, 
and  a  method  of  instructing  the  youth  in  the  duties  of 
negative  and  positive  justice  and  benevolence,  may  be 
drawn  from  what  will  be  said  on  social  virtue  in  the  third 
book. 

Young  people  of  good  understanding  may  be  rationally 
convinced  of  the  certainty  of  the  Divine  existence,  by 
a  set  of  arguments  not  too  abstract,  but  vet  convincing. 
The  proof  a  posteriorly  as  it  is  commonly  called,  is  the 
fittest  to  be  dwelt  upon,  and  is  fully  level  to  the  capa- 
city of  a  youth  of  parts  at  fourteen  years  of  age.  An  idea 
of  the  Supreme  Being,  a  set  of  useful  moral  reflections 
upon  his  perfections,  and  an  account  of  the  duty  we  owe 
him,  may  be  drawn  from  what  is  said  on  that  subject  in 
the  following  book. 

To  habituate  young  people  to  reason  on  moral  subjects, 
to  teach  them  to  exert  their  faculties  in  comparing,  exam- 
ining, and  reflecting,  is  doing  them  one  of  the  greatest  ser- 
vices that  can  be  imagined. — And  as  there  is  no  real  mer- 
it in  taking  religion  on  trust ;  but  on  the  contrary,  a  rea- 
sonable mind  cannot  be  better  employed  than  in  examin- 
ing into  sacred  truth  :  and  as  nothing  is  likely  to  produce 
a  lasting  effect  upon  the  mind,  but  what  the  mind  is  clearly 
convinced  of ;  on  these,  and  all  other  accounts,  it  is  ab- 
solutely necessary  that  young  people  be  early  taught  to 
consider  the  christian  religion,  not  as  a  matter  of  mere 
form,  handed  down  from  father  to  son,  or  as  a  piece  of  su- 
perstition, consisting  in  being  baptized,  and  called  after 
the  author  of  our  religion,  but  as  a  subject  of  reasoning, 
a  system  of  doctrines  to  jbe  clearly  understood,  a  set  of 
facts  established  on  unquestionable  evidence,  a  body  of 
laws  given  by  Divine  authority,  which  are  to  better  the 
hearts,  and  regulate  the  lives  of  men.  To  give  the  youth 
at  a  place  of  education,  a  comprehensive  view  of  only 
the  heads  of  what  they  ought  to  be  taught  of  the  chris- 
tian religion,  will  very  nobly  and  usefully  employ  several 
evenings.  The  particulars  to  be  insisted  on  may  be  drawn 
from  the  fourth  book. 

The  whole  course  may  conclude  with  an  explanation  of 


148  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

our  Saviour's  discourse  on  the  mount,  Matth.  v.  vi.  and 
vii.  which  contains  the  christian  law,  or  rule  of  life,  and 
is  infinitely  more  proper  to  be  committed  to  memory  by 
youth,  than  all  the  catechisms  that  ever  were  or  will  be 
composed. 

This  may  be  a  proper  place  to  mention,  that  from  the 
earliest  years,  youth  ought  to  be  accustomed  to  the  most 
reasonable  of  all  services,  I  mean  worshipping  God.  It 
is  no  matter  how  short  the  devotions  they  use  may  be,  so 
they  offer  them  with  decency  and  understanding  ;  without 
which  they  had  better  let  them  alone  ;  for  they  will  be  a 
prejudice  instead  of  an  advantage  to  them. 

Besides  all  other  improvements,  endeavours  ought  to 
be  used  to  lead  young  persons  to  study,  to  love,  and  to  form 
themselves  by  the  holy  Scriptures,  the  fountain  of  knowl- 
edge, and  rule  of  life.  For  this  purpose,  some  of  the  time 
allotted  for  moral  instruction,  in  a  seminary  of  learning, 
may  be  interchangeably  bestowed  in  reading,  commenting, 
and  questioning  the  youth  upon  select  parts  of  Scripture, 
as  the  account  of  the  creation  and  flood,  the  remarkable 
characters  of  JS'oah,  Lot  and  Abraham,  the  miraculous  his- 
tory of  the  people  of  Israel,  the  moral  writings  of  Solon:  on, 
some  of  the  most  remarkable  prophecies,  with  accounts  of 
their  completions,  the  Gosple-history,  and  the  moral  parts 
of  the  epistles.  An  hour  every  morning  may  be  very  well 
employed  in  this  manner. 

A  course  of  such  instructions  continued,  repeated,  and 
improved  upon,  for  a  series  of  years,  will  furnish  the 
young  mind  with  a  treasure  of  the  most  valuable  and  sub- 
lime knowledge,  and  must,  with  the  divine  blessing,  give 
it  a  east  toward  the  virtuous  side,  which  it  must  at  least 
find  some  difficulty  in  getting  the  better  of  in  afterlife. 

For  any  man  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  a  place  of 
education,  who  is  not  tolerably  qualified  for  explaining  the 
nature  and  obligations  of  morality,  and  who  has  not  some 
critical  knowledge  of  Scripture,  is  intolerable  arrogance 
and  wickedness.  And  that  teacher  of  youth,  who  does 
not  consider  the  forming  of  the  moral  character  of  his  pu- 
pils as  the  great  and  indispensable  part  of  his  duty,  has 
not  yet  learned  the  first  principles  of  his  art. 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  149 

SECTION  II. 

Intention  and  Method  of  Education.      Concurrence  of  the 
Parents  necessary. 

THE  sooner  a  bo)r  is  sent  from  home  for  his  education, 
the  better.  For  though  the  parents  themselves  should  be 
abundantly  capable  of  judging  of,  and  resolute  enough  to 
keep  up  a  proper  conduct  to  the  child,  which  is  very  sel- 
dom the  case,  yet  there  will  always  be  enough  of  silly  re- 
lations coming  and  going,  and  of  visitants  flattering  and 
humouring  him  in  all  his  weaknesses ;  which,  though 
they  be  entertaining,  as  indeed  every  thing  is  from  a  pretty 
child,  ought  without  all  question  to  be  eradicated  as  soon 
as  possible,  instead  of  being  encouraged.  The  very  ser- 
vants will  make  it  their  business  to  teach  him  a  thousand 
monkey  tricks,  and  to  blame  the  parents  for  every  reproof 
or  correction  they  use,  though  ever  so  seasonable*  and  ne- 
cessary* 

It  is  surprising  that  ever  a  question  should  have  been 
made,  whether  an  education  at  home  or  abroad  was  to  be 
chosen.  In  a  home  education,  it  is  plain,  that  the  advan- 
tage arising  from  emulation,  the  importance  of  which  is 
not  to  be  conceived,  must  be  lost.  It  is  likewise  obvi- 
ous, that  by  a  home  education  youth  misses  all  the  advan- 
tage of  being  accustomed  to  the  company  of  his  equals, 
and  being  early  hardened  by  the  little  rubs  he  will  from 
time  to  time  meet  with  from  them,  against  those  he  must 
lay  his  account  with  meeting  in  life,  which  a  youth,  who 
goes  directly  out  of  his  mother's  lap  into  the  wide  world, 
is  by  no  means  prepared  to  grapple  with,  nor  even  to  bear 
the  sight  of  strange  faces,  nor  to  eat,  drink,  or  lodge  dif- 
ferently from  the  manner  he  has  been  used  to  at  his  father's 
house.  A  third  p-reat  disadvantage  of  a  home  education, 
is  the  missing  a  number  of  useful  and  valuable  friendships 
a  youth  might  have  contracted  at  school,  which,  being 
begun  in  the  innocent  and  disinterested  time  of  life,  often 
hold  through  the  whole  of  it,  and  prove  of  the  most  im- 
portant advantage.  The  sooner  a  young  person  goes  from 
the  solitary  state  of  home  into  the  social  life  of  a  place  of 
education,  the  sooner  he  has  an  opportunity'  of  knowing- 
what  it  is  to  be  a  member  of  society,  of  seeing  a  differ- 


150  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

Cncc  between  a  right  and  a  wrong  behaviour,  of  learning 
how  to  conduct  himself  among  his  equals,  and  in  short 
the  sooner  he  is  likely,  under  proper  regulations,  to  be- 
come a  formed  man. 

The  view  of  education  is  not  to  carry  the  pupils  a  great 
length  in  each  different  science ;  but  only  to  open  their 
minds  for  the  reception  of  various  knowledge,  of  which 
the  first  seeds  and  principles  are  to  be  planted  early,  while 
the  mind  is  flexible,  and  disengaged  from  a  multiplicity  of 
ideas  and  pursuits.  Those  seeds  and  principles  are  after- 
wards tD  be  cultivated  by  the  man  when  grown  up,  and, 
by  means  of  constant  diligence  and  application,  may  be 
expected,  through  length  of  time,  to  produce  the  noblest 
and  most  valuable  fruits.  From  hence  it  is  evident,  what 
constitutes  the  character  of  a  person  properly  qualified  for 
being  at  the  head  of  the  education  of  vouth.  Not  so  much 
a  deep  skill  in  languages  only,  or  in  mathematics  only,  or 
in  any  single  branch  of  knowledge,  exclusive  of  the  rest ; 
but  a  general  and  comprehensive  knowledge  of  the  various 
branches  of  learning,  and  the  proper  methods  of  acquiring 
them,  with  clear  and  just  notions  of  human  nature,  of  mo- 
rals, and  revealed  religion. 

The  most  perfect  scheme  that  has  yet  been  found  out, 
or  is  possible  for  the  whole  education  of  youth,  from  six 
years  of  age  and  upwards,  is  where  a  person,  properly 
^qualified,  with  an  unexceptionable  character  for  gentleness 
of  temper  and  exemplary  virtue,  good  breeding,  knowl- 
edge of  the  world,  and  of  languages,  writing,  accounts, 
book-keeping,  geography,  the  principles  of  philosophy, 
mathematics,  history,  and  divinity,  and  who  is  disengaged 
from  all  other  pursuits,  employs  himself  and  proper  as- 
sistants, wholly  in  the  care  and  instruction  of  a  competent 
number  of  youth  placed  in  his  own  house,  and  under  his 
own  eye,  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  accomplish  them  in  all 
the  branches  of  useful  and  ornamental  knowledge,  suitable 
to  their  ages,  capacities,  and  prospects,  and  especially  in 
the  knowledge  of  what  will  make  them  useful  in  this  life, 
and  secure  the  happiness  of  the  next. 

There  is  no  one  advantage  in  any  other  conceivable 
plan  of  education  which  may  not  be  gained  in  this,  nor  any 
one  disadvantage  that  may  not  be  as  effectually  avoided  in 
this  way  as  in  an  v.     If  there  is  any  thins:  s:ood  in  a  child, 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  151 

it  may,  in  this  method  of  education,  be  improved  to  the 
highest  pitch  ;  if  there  is  any  thing  bad,  it  cannot  be  long 
unknown,  and  may  be  remedied,  if  it  is  remediable  ;  if  a 
child  has  a  bright  capacity,  there  is  emulation,  honour,  and 
reward,  to  encourage  him  to  make  the  best  of  it ;  and  if  his 
faculties  be  low,  there  are  proper  methods  for  putting  him 
upon  using  his  utmost  diligence  ;  and  there  is  opportunity 
to  give  him  private  assistance  at  by-hours,  to  enable  him 
to  keep  nearly  upon  a  footing  with  others  of  his  age.  In 
such  a  place  of  education,  the  master  has  it  in  his  power, 
by  assiduity  and  diligence,  to  make  the  highest  improve- 
ments upon  the  youth  under  his  care,  both  in  human  and 
divine  knowledge  ;  and,  by  a  tender  and  affectionate  treat- 
ment of  them,  may  gain  the  love,  the  esteem,  and  the  obe- 
dience due  to  a  parent  rather  than  a  master.  Such  a  place 
of  education  is  indeed  no  way  different  from  another  pri- 
vate house,  only,  that  instead  of  three  or  four,  or  half  a 
dozen  children,  there  may  be  thirty  or  forty  in  a  family. 
Instead  of  an  indulgent  parent,  who  might  fondle  or  spoil 
the  youth,  there  is  at  the  head  of  such  an  economy,  an  im- 
partial and  prudent  governor,  who,  not  being  biassed  by 
paternal  weakness,  is  likely  to  consult,  in  the  most  disin- 
terested manner,  their  real  advantage.  Having  no  other 
scheme  in  his  head,  nor  any  thing  else  to  engage  his 
thoughts,  he  is  at  liberty,  which  few  parents  are,  to  bestow 
his  whole  time  upon  the  improvement  of  the  youth  under 
his  care.  Having  no  other  dependence  for  raising  himself 
in  life,  he  is  likely  to  apply  himself  in  good  earnest  to  do 
whatever  he  can  for  the  advantage  of  the  youth,  and  bis 
own  reputation  ;  as  knowing  that,  though  foundations,  ex- 
hibitions, fellowships,  and  preferments,  will  always  draw 
pupils  to  public  schools  and  universities,  it  is  quite  other- 
wise  with  a  private  place  of  education,  which  must  depend 
wholly  upon  real  and  substantial  care  and  visible  improve- 
ment of  the  youth  ;  and  that  a  failure  of  these  must  be  the 
ruin  of  his  credit  and  fortune.  And  suppose  a  competent 
set  of  duly  qualified  teachers  employed  in  such  a  place  of 
education,  it  is  plain,  that  there  is  no  part  of  improvement 
to  be  had  at  any  kind  of  school,  academy,  or  university, 
which  may  not  be  taken  in,  and  carried  to  the  utmost 
length,  the  pupils  are  capable  of,  according  to  their  age 
and  natural  parts. 


152  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

This  is  indeed,  in  the  main,  the  great  Milton's  plan  of  a 
place  oi  education  to  carry  youth  from  grammar  quite  to 
the  finishing  of  their  studies.  In  which  the  very  circum- 
stance of  a  person's  being  brought  up  under  the  same  au- 
thority from  L.hhdhood  to  mature  age,  is  of  inestimable 
advantage.  When  a  child  is  first  put  to  a  Billy  old  woman 
to  learn  to  read,  or  rather  murder  his  book,  what  a  number 
of  bud  habits  docs  he  acquire,  all  which  must  afterwards 
be  unlearned  ?  When  from  thence  he  is  removed  to  a 
public,  or  boarding  school,  with  what  contempt  does  he 
look  back  upon  his  poor  old  mistress,  and  how  saucily 
does  he  talk  of  her  ?  The  case  is  the  same,  when  he  is  re- 
moved from  the  school  to  the  university.  Then  my 
voung  master  thinks  himself  a  man,  finds  himself  at  his 
own  disposal,  and  resolves  to  make  use  of  that  liberty, 
which  no  person  ought  to  be  trusted  with  before  years  of 
discretion.  .And  the  consequences  are  generally  seen  to 
answer  accordingly.  But  a  youth,  who  has  been  brought 
up  from  childhood  to  ripe  age,  under  the  same  person, 
supposing  him  properly  qualified,  acquires  in  time  the  af- 
fection and  the  sense  of  authority  of  a  son  to  a  parent, 
rather  than  of  a  pupil  to  a  master,  than  which  nothing  can 
more,  or  so  much  contribute  to  his  improvement  in  learn- 
ing, or  to  the  forming  of  his  manners. 

Whether  there  are  not  some  particulars  in  the  very  con- 
stitution and  plan  of  certain  places  of  education,  that  may 
be  said  to  be  fundamentally  wrong,  I  shall  leave  to  better 
judgments,  after  setting  down  a  few  queries  on  the 
subject. 

Whether  the  most  perfect  knowledge  of  two  dead  Ian. 
guages  is,  to  any  person  whatever,  let  his  views  in  life  be 
what  they  will,  worth  the  expense  of  ten  years  study,  to 
the  exclusion  of  all  other  improvements  ? 

Whether,  in  order  to  a  thorough  knowledge  of  Latin 
and  Greek,  there  is  any  real  necessity  for  learning  by  rote 
a  number  of  crabbed  grammar  rules?  And  whether  the 
same  method  which  is  commonly  used  in  teaching  French 
and  Italian,  (in  which  it  is  notorious  that  people  do  actu- 
ally acquire  as  great,  or  rather  a  greater  mastery)  would 
not  be  as  effectual,  and  incomparably  more  compendious, 
for  acquiring  a  sufficient  knowledge  of  Latin  or  Greek? 
\  mean,  only  learning  to  decline  nouns  and  verbs,  and  a 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  ]53 

tew  rules  of  construction,  and  then  reading  books  in  the 
language. 

Whether  the  superfluous  time,  bestowed  in  learning 
grammar  rules,  would  not  be  much  better  employed  in 
writing,  arithmetic,  elements  of  mathematics,  or  other  im- 
provements of  indispensable  use  in  life  ?  especially  as  it 
may  be  farther  asked, 

Whether  the  neglect  of  the  first  principles  of  those  va- 
luable parts  of  knowledge,  till  the  more  tractable  years  of 
youth  are  past  (all  for  the  sake  of  Latin  and  Greek,)  is  not 
in  experience  found  to  be  a  great  and  irreparable  loss  to 
those  who  have  been  educated  in  that  imperfect  method  ? 
And  whether  they  do  not  find  it  extremely  hard,  if  not  im- 
possible, in  afterlife,  to  acquire  a  perfect  knowledge  of 
what  they  were  not  in  early  youth  sufficiently  grounded  in? 

Whether  the  time  spent  in  making  Latin  themes  and 
verses  is  not  wholly  thrown  away  ?  Whether  E?iglish  peo- 
ple do  not  commonly  acquire  a  very  sufficient  knowledge 
of  French  and  Italian,  without  ever  thinking  of  making 
verses  in  those  languages  ?  Whether  putting  a  youth,  not 
yet  out  of  his  teens,  upon  composition  of  any  kind,  is  at 
all  reasonable ?  Whether  it  is  not  requiring  nim  to  pro- 
duce what,  from  his  unripe  age  and  uninformed  judgment, 
is  not  to  be  supposed  to  be  in  him,  I  mean  thought  ? 
Whether  the  proper  employment  of  those  tender  years  is 
not  rather  planting  than  reaping  ?  Whether  therefore  it 
would  not  be  a  more  useful  exercise  to  set  a  youth  of  fif- 
teen to  translate,  paraphrase,  comment  upon,  or  make  ab- 
stracts from  the  productions  of  masterly  hands,  than  to 
put  him  upon  producing  any  thing  of  his  own  ? 

Whether  any  knowledge  of  the  learned  languages,  be- 
sides being  qualified  to  understand  the  sense,  and  relish 
the  beauties,  of  an  ancient  author,  be  of  any  use  ?  and 
whether  the  making  of  themes  or  verses  does  at  all  contri- 
bute to  that  end "? 

Whether,  in  a  seminary  of  learning,  where  some  hund- 
reds of  youth  are  together,  it  is  by  any  human  means  pos- 
sible to  prevent  their  corrupting  one  another,  undistin- 
guished and  undiscovered?  Whether  it  is  by  any  human 
means  possible  to  find  out  the  real  characters,  the  lauda- 
ble or  faulty  turns  of  disposition  in  such  a  number  of 
youth,  or  to  applv  particularly  to  the  correction  or  en- 

U 


154  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

couragcment  of  each  fault  or  weakness,  as  they  may  re- 
spectively require?* 

It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  the  business  of  education 
should  go  on  to  purpose,  unless  parents  resolve  to  allow 
a  gentleman,  properly  qualified  for  the  important  trust  to 
be  reposed  in  him,  such  an  income  as  may  be  sufficient  to 
enable  him  to  carry  on  his  scheme  without  uneasiness  and 
anxiety,  to  support  proper  assistants,  and  to  furnish  him- 
self with  books,  and  the  other  apparatus  necessary  for  the 
improvement  of  the  youth  under  his  care. 

There  is  no  danger  of  rewarding  too  well  the  person 
whose  faithful  diligence  has,  by  the  divine  blessing,  made 
your  son  a  scholar,  a  virtuous  man,  and  a  christian.  That 
the  gentlemen  who  employ,  or  rather  wear  themselves  out, 
in  the  laborious  work  of  the  education  of  youth,  do  but 
too  generally  meet  with  narrow  and  ungrateful  returns,  is 
evident  from  this  demonstration,  that  so  few  of  them  are 
seen  to  reap  such  fruits  of  their  labours,  as  are  sufficient  to 
put  them  in  easy,  much  less  affluent  circumstances,  when 
old  age  comes  upon  them,  while  fiddlers,  singers,  players, 
and  those  who  serve  at  best  only  to  amuse,  and  often  to 
debauch  us,  wallow  in  wealth  and  luxury. — And  yet,  with- 
out  reserve,  and  without  disparagement,  be  it  spoken,  there 
is  not  a  more  valuable  member  of  society,  than  a  faithful 
and  able  instructor  of  youth. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  expected  that  the  education  of  youth 
should  succeed  properly,  if  parents  will  thwart  every  mea- 
sure taken  by  a  prudent  master  for  the  advantage  of  a  child, 
taking  him  home  from  time  to  time,  interrupting  the 
course  of  his  studies,  and  pampering  and  fondling  him  in 
a  manner  incompatible  with  the  economy  of  a  place  of  edu- 

*  Whoever  is  in  doubt  about  the  subjects  of  the  foregoing-  queries,  may  read, 
for  settling  his  judgment,  the  following  Authors,  viz.  Hor.  Lib.  I.  Sat.  x.  upon 
the  absurdity  of  making  verses  in  a  foreign  language.  Mr.  Loch's  '1'reat.  of 
Educat.  in  various  places,  particularly  page  305,  on  the  absurdity  of  putting 
youth  upon  making  themes  and  verses.  Gtmley  upon  that  of  fatiguing  them 
with  a  needless  Heap  of  grammar  rules.  To  which,  add  the  authorities  of  Ta- 
naquil  Faber,  Mr.  Clark,  Milton,  Carew,  the  Governors  of  the  Princes  of  the 
Royal  blood  of  France,  Roger  Aschani,  Esq.  Latin  preceptor  to  Queen  Eliza- 
i-et'h,  and  others  quoted  at  large  by  Mr.  Philips,  formerly  preceptor  to  his  Roy- 
al Highness  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  in  his  Compendious  Method  of  teaching 
languages,  printed  1750.  And  if  these  be  not  enough  to  condemn  the  labori- 
ous trifling  commonly  used  in  certain  places  of  education,  let  Mr.  Waller,  JM- 
dison,  Pope,  and  many  other  able  mc«  who  have  writ  on  the  subject,  be  con- 
sulted. * 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  155 

cation,  whereby  a  child  must  be  led  to  conclude,  that  it 
is  an  unhappiness  to  be  obliged  to  be  at  school ;  that  it  is 
doing  him  a  kindness  to  fetch  him  home,  to  keep  him  in 
idleness,  to  feed  him  with  rich  food,  and  high  sauces,  and 
to  allow  him  to  drink  wine,  and,  to  keep  such  hours  for 
eating  and  sleeping  as  are  unsuitable  to  his  age.  Did  pa- 
rents but  consider,  that  a  child's  happiness  depends  not  at 
all  upon  his  being  indulged  and  pampered  ;  but  upon 
having  his  mind  easy,  without  hankering  after  what  he  does 
not  know,  and  will  never  think  of,  if  not  put  in  his  head  by 
their  improper  management  of  him;  and  that  the  more  he 
is  humoured  in  his  childish  follies,  the  more  wants,  and, 
consequently,  the  more  uneasiness  he  will  have  ;  did  pa- 
rents, I  say,  consider  this,  they  would  not  give  themselves 
and  their  children  the  trouble  they  do,  only  to  make  both 
unhappy. 

I  have  heard  of  a  mother,  who  humoured  her  son  to  that 
pitch  of  folly,  that,  upon  his  taking  it  into  his  head,  that  it 
would  be  pretty  to  ride  upon  a  cold  surloin  of  beef,  which 
was  brought  to  table,  she  gravely  ordered  the  servant  to 
put  a  napkin  upon  it,  and  set  him  astride  in  the  dish,  that 
he  might  have  his  fancy.  And  of  another,  who  begged 
her  little  daughter's  nurse  to  take  care,  of  all  things,  that 
the  child  should  not  see  the  moon,  lest  she  should  cry 
for  it. 

If  parents  will,  in  this  manner,  make  it  a  point,  never, 
even  in  the  most  necessary  cases,  to  oppose  the  wayward 
wills  of  infants,  what  can  they  expect,  but  that  peevish- 
ness and  perverseness  should  grow  upon  them  to  a  degree, 
that  must  make  them  unhappy  on  every  occasion,  when 
they  meet  with  proper  treatment  from  more  reasonable 
people?  The  youth,  who,  at  his  father's  table,  has  been 
used  to  eat  of  a  variety  of  dishes  every  day,  than  which 
nothing  is  more  pernicious  to  any  constitution,  old  or 
young,  will  think  himself  miserable,  when  he  comes  to  the 
simple  and  regulated  diet  of  a  boarding  school ;  though 
this  last  is  much  more  conducive  to  health.  He,  who  has 
been  used  to  do  whatever  he  pleased  at  home,  will  think 
it  very  grievous  to  be  controuled,  when  he  comes  to  a 
place  of  education.  The  consequence  of  which  will  be, 
that  his  complaints  will  be  innumerable,  as  his  imaginary 
grievances.     Where  the  truth  will  not  seem  a  sufficient 


156  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

foundation  for  complaining,  lies  and  inventions  will  be  call- 
ed in  ;  for  youth  have  very  little  principle.  They  will  be 
listened  to  by  the  fond  parent.  The  number  of  them  will 
increase,  upon  their  meeting  encouragement.  The  edu- 
cation of  the  child,  and  his  very  morals,  will  in  this  man- 
ner be  hurt,  if  not  ruined. — This  isnot  theory ;  but  expe- 
rienced and  notorious  fact.  The  weakness  of  parents  in 
this  respect  docs,  indeed,  exceed  belief.  And  unhappily, 
the  best  people  are  often  most  given  to  this  weakness, 
having  minds  the  most  susceptible  of  tenderness  and 
affection,  and  of  the  most  easy  credulity.  This  weakness 
appears  in  all  shapes,  and  produces  all  kinds  of  bad  effects. 
It  is  the  case  of  parents  overlooking  the  most  dangerous 
and  fatal  turns  of  mind  in  their  children,  till  the  season 
of  correcting  them  be  past ;  of  indulging  them  in  the  very 
things  they  ought  to  be  restrained  in  ;  of  their  hating  those 
who  endeavour  to  open  their  eyes  to  the  faults  of  their 
children;  of  listening  to  their  groundless  complaints  against 
their  masters  ;  of  restraining  and  hampering  them  in  the 
discharge  of  their  duty  to  their  children  ;  and  of  ungrate- 
fully imputing  to  the  master's  want  of  care  the  failure  of 
their  children's  improvement  in  what  nature  has  denied 
them  capacities  for ;  at  the  same  time,  that  they  know 
other  youths  have  made  proper  improvements  under  the 
same  care  ;  and  cannot  with  any  colour  of  reason  suppose 
a  prudent  master  so  much  his  own  enemy,  as  to  neglect 
one  pupil,  and  use  diligence  with  another. 


SECTION  III. 

Process  of Education  from  four  Years  of  Age,  to  the  fn- 
ishing  of  the  Puerile  Studies  and  Exercises. 

FROM  the  age  of  four  to  six,  a  healthy  child  of  good 
capacity  may  learn  to  read  English  distinctly  according  to 
the  spelling  and  points.  The  propriety  of  emphasis  and 
cadence  must  not  be  expected  at  so  early  an  age.  With- 
in {h  is  period  likewise,  he  maybe  introduced  into  the  ru- 
diments of  Latin,  and  may  learn  to  decline  by  memory 
a  set  of  examples  of  all  the  declinable  parts  of  speech. 

If  I  did  not  think  some  knowledge  in  the  Latin  language 
absolutely  necessary  to  any  person,  whose  station  raises 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  157 

him  above  the  rank  of  a  working  mechanic,  I  should  not 
recommend  it.  Notwithstanding  what  has  been  said  by 
many  against  the  necessity  of  any  knowledge  of  Latin, 
I  must  own,  I  cannot  see  that  an  English  education  can 
be  begun  upon  any  other  foundation.  Without  grammar, 
there  can  be  no  regular  education.  And  the  grammar  of 
one  language  might  as  well  be  learnt  as  another,  the  sci- 
ence being  in  the  main  the  same  in  all.  It  is  very  well 
known,  that  most  of  the  European  languages  are  more 
Latin  than  any  thing  else.  And  what  more  thorough 
method  is  there  of  letting  a  person  into  the  spirit  of  a  lan- 
guage, than  by  making  him  early  acquainted  with  the  ori- 
ginal roots,  from  whence  it  is  derived  ?  As  great  part  of 
the  Latin  arises  from  the  Greek,  some  judicious  persons 
have  thought  it  best  to  begin  with  that  language. 

Upon  the  whole,  one  would  think,  no  parent  should 
wish  his  son  brought  up  in  so  defective  a  manner,  as  to  be 
at  a  stand  at  a  Latin  phrase  in  an  English  book,  or  a  say- 
ing of  an  ancient  author  mentioned  in  conversation,  which 
must  be  very  often  met  with  by  any  man  who  reads  at  all, 
or  keeps  company  above  the  very  lowest  ranks  of  life. 

From  the  age  of  six  to  eight,  his  reading  may  be  con- 
tinued and  improved,  his  principles  of  Latin  reviewed  from 
time  to  time,  and  he  may  be  employed  in  reading  such  ea- 
sy books  as  Corderius,  and  some  of  Erasmus"1  Colloquies 
with  an  English  Translation. 

About  this  age  likewise,  children  may  be  taught  to  read 
a  little  French,  a  language  which  no  gentleman,  or  man 
of  business  can  be  without.  After  they  have  gone  through 
Boi/er's  Grammar  and  learned  by  memory  a  set  of  exam- 
ples of  verbs  regular  and  irregular,  and  common  phases, 
they  may  read  a  little  collection  lately  published,  called, 
Recueildes  auteus  Francois,  printed  at  Edinburgh.  Les 
avantures  de  Gil  Bias,  Le  diable  boiteux,  Les  avantures 
de  Telemaque, '  Les  comedies  de  Moliere,  and  Les  trage- 
dies de  Racine,  are  proper  books  for  youth  to  read  for 
their  improvement  in  French.  They  must  likewise  prac- 
tise translating  into  French,  and  speaking  the  language. 

From  eight  to  twelve  years  of  age,  they  may  be  em- 
ployed in  the  same  manner,  and  may  besides  be  introduced 
to  such  Latin  authors  as  Justin,  Cornelius  Nepos,  Eu- 
tropins,  Phcedrus,  and  the  like.     There  is  likewise  a  pretty 


158  OF  KNOWLEDGE* 

collection  lately  published,  entitled,  Selecta  Latina  Sef-, 
mortis  Exemplaria,  &c.  very  proper  for  the  lower  classes. 
Ovid  is  an  author  usually  put  into  the  hands  of  youth  about 
this  age.  But  for  my  part,  I  do  not  think  any  thing  of 
his,  besides  his  Fasti,  at  all  lit  for  the  young  and  unprin- 
cipled mind.  His  obscenities  and  indecencies  will,  I  hope, 
be  readily  given  up.  And  the  bulk  of  his  other  writings 
are  either  overstrained  witticisms,  bombastic  rants,  or 
improbable  and  monstrous  fictions;  none. of  which  seem 
proper  for  laying  a  good  foundation  in  the  young  mind  for 
raising  a  superstructure  of  true  taste;  rational  goodness  ; 
and  a  steady  love  of  truth. 

From  twelve  years  of  age  to  sixteen  or  eighteen,  that 
is,  to  the  finishing  of  the  education,  properly  so  called  ; 
for  a  wise  man  never  finishes  his  inquiries  and  improve- 
ments till  life  itself  be  finished  ;  in  the  beginning  of  this 
period,  I  say  besides  carrying  on  and  improving  the  above, 
a  youth  ought  (and  not  much  before  according  to  my  judg- 
ment) to  be  entered  into  writing,  and  soon  after  into  arith- 
metic, and  then  to  read  a  little  of  the  elements  of  geom- 
etry. Writing  requires  some  degree  of  strength  of  mus- 
cle, and  of  sight ;  and  numbers  and  the  elements  of  geom- 
etry, some  ripeness  of  judgment,  which  are  not  to  be 
found  in  the  ^eneralitv  of  vouth  before  twelve  vears  of 
age. 

The  neglecting  too  long  the  first  principles  of  geome- 
try, and  the  knowledge  of  numbers,  is  found  in  experi- 
ence to  be  very  prejudicial;  as  a  person,  whose  mind 
comes  once  to  be  full  of  various  ideas,  and  eager  after 
different  pursuits,  as  those  of  most  people  are  by  sixteen 
oreighteen,  can  hardly  b)'  any  means  bring  himself  to  apply 
to  any  new  branch  of  knowledge,  of  which  he  has  not 
had,  in  the  young  and  tractable  years  of  life,  some  prin- 
ciples. Mathematics,  to  one  who  has  had  no  tincture  of 
that  sort  of  knowledge  infused  into  his  mind  in  youth,  will 
be  a  mere  terra  incognita  ;  and  therefore  too  disagreeable 
and  irksome  to  be  fever  pursued  by  him  with  any  consid- 
erable success.  The  case  is  by  experience  found  to  be  the 
same  with  respect  to  languages,  and  every  other  com- 
plex or  extensive  branch  of  knowledge  ;  which  gave  occa- 
sion to  the  great  Mr.  Locke  to  observe,  that  "  the  taking 
a  taste  of  every  sort  of  knowledge  is  necessary  to  form  tbp 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  159 

mind,  and  is  the  only  way  to  give  the  understanding  its 
due  improvement  to  the  full  extent  of  its  capacity." 

*  Books  proper  for  learning  the  elements  of  geometry, 
some  think  Pardie's  an  easy  introduction-  Simpson's  ge- 
ometry is  a  very  elegant  compend.  BuPCunn's  or  Simp- 
soo's  Euclid  is  the  best  book  for  a  young  beginner.  Of 
the  higher  parts  of  mathematics  I  shall  speak  afterwards. 

Abotit  the  age  of  twelve  it  will  be  proper  for  a  youth  to 
enter  on  the  Greek  language.  From  the  small  Westmin- 
ster Grammar  (which  is  as  good  as  any)  he  may  go  on  to 
read  the  New  Testament,  and  from  thence  to  sundry  Col- 
lections^ and  Isocrates,  or  Demosthenes,  Plato,  and  Homer. 

I  know  no  occasion  a  youth  can  have  to  be  obliged  to 
get  any  thing  by  memory  in  learned  or  foreign  languages, 
except  the  declensions  of  a  set  of  examples,  a  few  phrases, 
and  rules  of  construction,  which  last  may  be  learned  in 
English.  The  memory  may  be,  to  much  greater  advan- 
tage, furnished  with  what  may  be  of  real  use  in  life,  than 
with  crabbed  grammar  rules,  or  with  heaps  of  Latin  or 
Greek  verse.  As  to  making  Latin  or  Greek  themes  or 
verses,  I  Mould  as  soon  have  a  son  of  mine  taught  to  dance 
on  a  rope.     But  of  this  enough. 

From  the  Latin  authors  above-mentioned,  a  youth  of 
parts,  may,  about  fourteen  and  fifteen,  and  onwards,  be 
advanced  to  Virgil,  Salust,  Terence,  Livy,  Tully,  with 
select  parts  of  Horace  (for  many  parts  of  that  author  ought 
not  to  be  in  print,)  and  so  on  to  Tacitus,  Juvenal,  and 
Persius. 

One  of  the  best  school  books  extant  is  a  small  collec- 
tion lately  published,  printed  for  L.  Hawes,  in  Paternos- 
ter-Row. which  I  could  wish  enlarged  to  the  extent  of  a 
volume  or  two  more,  collected  with  equal  judgment.  It 
is  entitled,  Selects  ex  profanis  scriptorihus  histories. 
This  may  be  read  by  youth  from  ten  years  of  age  and  up- 
wards ;  and  would  be  very  proper  to  make  translations 
from,  for  improving  them  at  once  in  orthography,  in  writ- 
ing, in  stile,  and  sentiment.  If  they  Mere  to  speak  such 
versions,  corrected  by  the  master,  by  way  of  orations,  be- 
fore their  parents,   I  should  think  the  end  of  improving 

•  The  Books  now  used  in  our  Colleges  and  other  seminaries  of  learning 
in  the  various  branches  of  science,  are  so  changed  since  the  time  of  Burgh, 
that  we  propose  saying  something  of  them  at  the  endof  the  volume. — Publiziitr. 


1G0  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

their  elocution  and  giving  them  courage  to  speak  in  public, 
might  be  thereby  much  better  attained,  than  by  their  being 
taught  either  to  act  plays  in  a  dead  language,  or  to  rant  in 
a  theatrical  manner  English  tragedies.  To  speak  a  grave 
speech  with  proper  grace  and  dignity  may  be  of  use  in 
real  life.  The  rant  of  the  stage  can  never  be  used  off  the 
stage.  And  practising  it  in  youth  has  often  produced 
very  bad  effects. 

I  know  no  necessity  for  a  youth's  going  through  every 
classic  author  he  reads.  There  are  parts  in  all  books  less 
entertaining  than  others.  And  perhaps  it  might  have  a 
good  effect  to  leave  off  some  times  where  the  pupil  shows 
a  desire  to  go  on,  rather  than  fully  satiate  his  curiosity. 

When  youth  come  to  read  Horace,  Livi/,  and  such  au- 
thors, they  may  be  supposed  capable  of  entering  a  little 
into  the  critical  beauties  of  the  ancients,  and  of  writing  in 
general.  It  will  be  of  great  consequence,  that  they  be 
early  put  in  the  right  way  of  thinking  with  respect  to  the 
real  merit  of  the  ancients,  their  excellencies,  which  may 
properly  be  imitated,  their  faults  to  be  avoided,  and  defi- 
ciencies to  be  supplied.    Of  which  more  fully  afterwards. 

Pope^s  Essay  on  Criticism,  may  with  success  be  com- 
mented upon.  From  which,  as  it  takes  in  the  principal 
rules  laid  down  and  observations  made  by  the  writers  be- 
fore him,  as  well  as  his  own,  may  be  drawn  a  general  view 
of  the  requisites  for  a  well  written  piece.  The  principles 
of  this  knowledge,  early  planted  in  the  mind,  would  be  of 
great  use  in  leading  people  to  form  their  taste  by  some  clear 
and  certain  rules  drawn  from  nature  and  reason,  which 
might  prevent  their  praising  and  blaming  in  the  wrong 
place ;  their  mistaking  noisy  bombast  for  the  true  sub- 
lime ;  a  stile  holding  forth  more  than  is  expressed,  for  the 
dull  and  unanimated  ;  bigness,  for  greatness  ;  Whining  for 
the  pathetic  ;  bullying  for  the  heroic  ;  oddity  for  terror  ; 
the  barbarous  for  the  tragical ;  farce  for  comedy  ;  quaint 
conceit,  pert  scurrility,  or  affected  cant,  for  true  wit ;  and 
so  forth.  The  beauty  and  advantage  of  method ;  the 
force  of  expression  suited  to  the  thought ;  the  causes  of 
perspicuity  or  confusion,  in  a  writer,  the  peculiar  delicacy 
in  the  turn  of  a  phrase  ;  the  importance  or  insignificancy 
of  a  thought,  the  aptness  of  a  simile  ;  the  music  of  a  ca- 
dence in  prose3  and  measure  in  verse ;  the  liveliness  of 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  161 

description ;  the  brightness  of  imagery ;  the  distinction 
of  characters';  the  pomp  of  machinery  ;  the  greatness  of 
invention" ;  the  correctness  of  judgment;  and  I  know  not 
how  many  more  particulars,  might  with  success  be  en- 
larged upon  in  teaching  youth  about  fifteen  years  of  age, 
and  upwards. 

When  a  youth  has  acquired  a  readiness  at  writing  and 
numbers,  he  may  learn  the  beautiful  and  useful  art  of 
book-keeping  according  to  the  Italian  method.  Though 
this  piece  of  knowledge  is  more  immediately  useful  for 
traders,  it  ought  not  to  be  neglected  by  any  person  what- 
ever. Many  an  estate  might  have  been  saved,  had  the 
owner  of  it  known  how  to  keep  correct  accounts  of  his  in- 
come and  expenses.  Were  there  only  the  beauty  and 
elegance  of  this  art  to  recommend  it,  no  wise  parent 
would  let  his  son  be  without  what  may  be  so  easily  ac- 
quired. The  best  system  of  book-keeping,  and  the  brief- 
est, is  Webster's. 

About  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  of  age  a  youth  of  parts 
may  be  instructed  in  the  use  of  the  globes,  which  will  re- 
quire his  having  the  terms  in  geography,  and  many  of  those 
used  in  astronomy,  explained  to  him.  To  this  may  be 
joined  an  abridgement  of  the  ancient  and  present  state  of 
nations,  commonly  called  ancient  and  modern  geography. 
The  best  books  on  the  use  of  the  globes,  are  Harris''  and 
Randal's  Geographv,or  Gordon 's  Geographical  Grammar; 
which,  with  Uubfier's  Compend,  and  Wells''  Geographia 
Classica,  will  be  sufficient  to  introduce  the  pupil  to  a  ge- 
neral notion  of  ancient  and  modern  geography.  A  set  of 
maps  ought  to  be  turned  to,  and  the  pupil  taught  to'  un- 
derstand the  manner  of  constructing  and  using  them. 

The  knowledge  of  the  surface  of  our  globe,  and  the  pre- 
sent state  of  nations,  is  necessary  and  useful  for  men  of  all 
ranks,  orders,  and  professions.  The  statesman  can  have 
no  distinct  ideas  of  the  interest  and  connexions  of  foreign 
nations  ;  the  divine  no  clear  conception  of  Scripture  or  ec- 
clesiastical history,  nor  the  merchant  of  the  voyages  his 
ships  are  to  make,  the  seats  of  commerce,  and  means  of 
collecting  its  various  articles  ;  nor  indeed  the  private  gen- 
tleman bear  a  part  in  common  conversation,  without  un- 
derstanding the  situations,  distances,  extent,  and  general 
state  of  kingdoms  and  empires.    In  a  word,  he,  who  does 

X 


162  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

not  know  geography,  docs  not  know  the  world.  And  it  is 
miserable,  that  a  gentleman  should  know  nothing  of  the 
world  he  lives  in,  but  the  spot,  in  which  he  was  born. 

Algebra  is  a  science  of  admirable  use  in  solving  ques- 
tions seemingly  inexplicable.  I  would  advise  that  every 
youth  of  fortune  and  parts  have  a  tincture  of  it  about  this 
period  of  life.  Hammond's,  Simpsoti's  and  Maclauriri's 
treatises  are  proper  to  be  made  use  of  in  teaching  it. 

About  the  same  age,  youth  may  be  led  into  a  general 
knowledge  of  chronology,  or  of  the  principal  eras  and  pe- 
riods of  the  world,  and  of  the  outlines  of  universal  historv. 
This  cannot  be  better  done,  than  by  reading  them  lectures 
upon  the  Chart  of  the  Universal  History,  lately  published, 
showing  them,  at  the  same  time,  upon  the  terrestrial  globe, 
and  in  maps,  the  situation  and  extent  of  kingdoms  and 
empires.  The  chronological  tables  in  the  twenty-first 
volume  of  the  Universal  History  may  be  consulted  by  those 
who  would  descend  to  more  minute  particulars  in  teaching 
youth  the  knowledge  of  chronology. 

About  the  age  of  sixteen  or  eighteen,  a  youth  of  good 
parts  may  learn  just  so  much  of  logic  as  may  be  useful  for 
leading  him  to  an  accurate  and  correct  manner  of  thinking, 
and  judging  of  such  truths  as  are  not  capable  of  mathe- 
matical demonstration.  The  Aristotelian  method  of  rea- 
soning in  mood  and  figure  might  be  proper,  if  the  ideas 
we  affix  to  all  words  were  as  precise  as  those  of  a  right 
line,  a  surface,  or  a  cube.  But  so  long  as  we  neither  have- 
in  our  own  minds  at  all  times,  nor  much  less  can  com- 
municate to  those  we  converse  with,  the  same  invariable 
ideas  to  the  same  words,  we  must  be  content,  if  we 
mean  either  to  receive  or  communicate  knowledge,  to  re- 
cede a  little  from  the  rigid  rules  of  logic,  laid  down  by  the 
Burgersdykes  and  the  Scheiblers,  which  always  hamper, 
and  often  mislead  the  understanding. 

For  the  purpose  of  putting  young  persons  in  the  way  of 
reasoning  justly,  Dr.  Watts'  Logic  may  with  success  be 
read  and  commented  on  to  them,  and  some  of  the  easiest 
and  most  fundamental  parts  of  Mr.  Locke's  Essay  on  Hu- 
man Understanding.  After  which  some  parts  of  the  writ- 
ings of  some  of  the  closest  reasoncrs  in  morals  may  be 
examined,  and  the  force  of  the  arguments  shown,  to  lead 
the  pupil  to  the  imitation  of  their  manner.     Such  writers 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  163 

as  Dr.  Clarke,  Woollaston,  and  Bishop  Butler,  author  of 
the  Analogy,  will  be  proper  for  this  purpose.  It  may  also 
be  useful  to  show  how  subtle  men  imperceptibly  deviate 
from  sound  reason,  and  lead  their  readers  into  fallacies. 
The  works  of  Hobbcs,  Morgan,  and  Hebrew  Hutchinson, 
may,  among  innumerable  others,  be  proper  examples  to 
show,  that  the  semblance  of  reason  may  be,  where  there  is 
no  substance. 

It  would  be  of  great  advantage  to  youth,  if  they  could, 
as  a  part  of  their  education,  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
a  course  of  experiments,  at  first  exhibited  by  Desaguliers, 
JV/uston,  and  others.  They  would  there  learn,  in  the 
_  most  entertaining  and  easy  manner,  the  grounds,  as  far  as 
known,  of  the  noble  science  of  physiology.  And  in  seeing 
a  regular  series  of  experiments,  and  observations,  in  me- 
chanics, hydrostatics,  pneumatics,  optics,  astronomy,  che- 
mistry, and  the  like,  would  have  their  curiosity  raised  to 
the  highest  pitch,  and  would  acquire  a  taste  for  knowl- 
edge, which  might  not  only  lead  them,  in  afterlife,  to  pur- 
sue their  own  improvement  in  the  most  valuable  ways,  but 
likewise  might,  by  furnishing  an  inexhaustible  fund  of 
entertainment,  supply  the  continual  want  of  taverns,  plays, 
music,  or  other  less  innocent  amusements,  to  fill  up  their 
vacant  hours.  For  it  is  only  the  want  of  something 
within  themselves  to  entertain  them,  that  drives  people  to 
routs,  rackets,  or  masquerades,  to  the  fatal  waste  of  time 
and  money,  and  the  utter  perversion  of  the  true  taste 
of  life. 

A  person  who  understands  this  kind  of  knowledge,  with 
the  help  of  a  very  few  instruments,  as  a  telescope,  a  mi- 
croscope, an  air  pump,  and  a  pair  of  Mr.  JVeaPs  patent 
globes,  may  go  through  the  grounds  of  this  sort  of  knowl- 
edge, following  the  method  given  by  Mr.  Martin  in  his 
philosophical  grammar  (guarding  against  his  errors)  to 
the  great  entertainment  and  improvement  of  a  set  of  pupils. 

Dancing,  fencing,  riding,  music,  drawing,  and  other 
elegant  arts  and  manly  exercises,  may,  according  to  the 
circumstances  of  parents,  and  genius  of  children,  be  car- 
ried greater  or  shorter  lengths.  For  a  person,  whose  edu- 
cation has  fitted  him  for  being  a  useful  member  of  society, 
according  to  his  station,  and  for  happiness  in  a  future  state, 
may  be  said  to  have  been  well  brought  up,  though  he 


164  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

should  not  excel  in  these  elegancies.  And  it  is  not  such 
frivolous  accomplishments  as  these  that  will  make  a  man 
valuable,  who  has  not  a  mind  endowed  with  wisdom  and 
virtue.  Above  all  things,  to  make  the  mere  ornaments  of 
life,  the  employment  of  life,  is  to  the  last  degree  prepos- 
terous. 

It  is  evidently  of  advantage,  that  a  young  gentleman  be, 
from  his  infancy  almost,  put  into  the  way  of  wielding  his 
limbs  decently,  and  coming  into  a  room  like  a  human  crea- 
ture. But  I  really  think  it  more  eligible,  that  a  youth  be 
a  little  bashful  and  awkward,  than  that  he  have  too  much 
of  the  player  or  dancing  master.  Care  ought  therefore  to 
be  taken,  that  he  do  not  learn  to  dance  too  well.  The 
consequence  will  probably  be,  that,  being  commended  for 
it,  he  will  take  all  opportunities  of  exhibiting  his  perform- 
ance, and  will  in  time  become  a  hunter  after  balls,  and  a 
mere  dangler  among  the  ladies. 

The  same  caution  ought  to  be  used  with  respect  to 
music.  It  is  true,  there  are  very  few  of  the  good  people 
of  England,  who  have  so  much  true  taste,  as  to  be  capa- 
ble of  excelling  in  that  alluring  and  bewitching  art.  But 
there  are  instances  of  the  bad  effects  of  cultivating  it  too. 
much. 

So  much  of  the  riding  school  as  is  useful  and  necessary, 
there  is  nothing  to  be  said  against  it.  But  it  is  deplorable 
to  see  many  of  our  gentry  study  the  liberal  science  of  joek- 
eyship  to  the  neglect  of  all  the  rest. 

Fencing,  if  practised  to  such  a  degree  as  to  excel  at  it, 
is  the  likeliest  means  that  can  be  contrived  for  getting  a 
man  into  quarrels.  And  I  see  not,  that  the  running  a  fel- 
low-creature through  the  body,  or  having  that  operation 
performed  upon  one's  self,  is  much  the  more  desirable 
for  its  being  done  secundum  artem.  Yet  whoever  wears 
a  sword,  ought  to  know  somewhat  of  the  art  of  hand- 
ling it. 

Drawing  is  an  ingenious  accomplishment,  and  does  not 
lead  directly  to  any  vice  that  I  know  of.  It  may  even  be  put 
upon  the  same  footing  with  a  taste  for  reading,  as  a  sober 
amusement,  which  may  lead  a  young  gentleman  to  love 
home  and  regular  hours.  But  it  is  far  from  being  friendly 
to  the  constitution.  Like  all  sedentary  employments  which 
engage  the  attention,  it  is  prejudicial  to  the  health,  espe- 


\ 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  165 

cially  where  oil  colours  are  used,  which  is  not  indeed  a- 
necessary  part  in  drawing.  It  likewise  fixes  and  strains 
the  eyes,  and,  in  small  work,  fatigues  them  too  much  to 
be  pursued  to  any  great  length  with  safety.  At  the  same 
time,  to  know  perspective,  and  the  other  principles  of  the 
art,  and  to  have  such  a  command  of  the  pencil,  as  to  be 
capable  of  striking  out  a  draught  of  an  object,  or  View,  not 
so  much  with  delicacy  as  whh  strength,  swiftness,  and 
fluency,  is  an  accomplishment  very  ornamental,  and  often 
useful. 

I  will  conclude  this  section  with  the  following  remark, 
That  there  is  this  difference  between  the  conduct  of  educa- 
tion, and  the  improvement  of  the  mind  afterwards,  that  in 
education,  the  view'  being  to  open  the  mind  to  all  kinds  of 
knowledge,  there  is  no  absurdity  in  carrying  on  several 
studies  together,  nor  in  passing  from  one  to  another,  before 
the  pupil  arrives  at  great  perfection  in  the  first ;  on  the- 
contrary,  in  maturity,  the  view  being  not  to  learn  the  first 
principles  (which  are  supposed  to  have  been  studied  in 
youth)  but  to  acquire  a  perfect  knowledge  of  subjects,  it 
is  then  improper  to  pursue  many  different  studies  at  once, 
or  to  give  over  one,  and  proceed  to  another,  till  one  has 
carried  the  former  a  competent  length. 


SECTION  IV. 

Of  many  Studies.  Of  a  Method  of  acquiring  a  competent 
Knowledge  of  the  Sciences.  Of  proper  Books  tnd  Appa- 
ratus. 

BEFORE  a  young  gentleman  sets  about  any  particular 
study,  supposing  his  puerile  education  finished,  he  may 
prepare  himself  for  more  manly  improvements,  by  a  care- 
ful perusal  of  the  following  books,  which  will  give  him  a 
general  view  or  map  of  science,  viz.  The  Preface  to 
Chambers'  Dictionary.  Clark's  Method  of  Study.  Bos- 
wel's  Method  of  Study.  Locked  Conduct  of  Human  Un- 
derstanding. Watts'  Improvement  of  the  Mind.  Baker's 
Reflections  on  Learning,  (an  ingenious  work,  except  upon 
the  subject  of  Astronomy  and  Philosophy,  where  the 
author    has  bewildered   himself  miserably.)     TFootton's 


166  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

Reflections  on  Ancient  and   Modern  Learning,   RoUbi's 
Belles  Lettivs. 

Nothing;  will  beof  more  consequence  towards  the  suc- 
cess of  a  young  gentleman's  endeavours  for  his  own  im- 
provement, than  his  getting  early  into  a  right  track  of  read- 
ing and  study  :  for  by  that  means  he  will  save  infinite 
trouble,  which  man}-  go  through,  by  beginning  at  the. 
wrong  end;  who  after  distressing  themselves  in  pursuing 
they  have  not  the  necessary  accomplishments  lor, 
find  themselves  obliged  to  give  up  what  they  had  under- 
taken, and  go  back  to  first  principles.  Men  thus  suffer 
great  loss  of  time  and  labour;  meet  with  discouragement 
in  their  studies  ;  and  the  structure  of  learning  which  they 
raise,  proves  in  the  end  but  a  piece  of  patchwork.  Others, 
by  being  at  first  put  upon  a  wrong  course  of  reading,  find 
themselves  plunged  into  mystery,  fanaticism,  or  error  of 
one  kind  or  other  ;  out  cf  which  it  costs  them  many  years 
to  extricate  themselves.  Others,  attachingthemselvestoo 
early  and  too  closely  to  one  narrow  track,  as  pure  mathe- 
matics, or  poetry,  cramp  their  minds  in  their  youth;  or, 
by  giving  too  great  a  loose  to  fancy,  unfit  them  for  expa- 
tiating boldly,  and  at  the  same  time  surely,  in  the  fields 
of  know  ledge.  To  avoid  these  radical  errors,  let  a  young 
gentleman  carefully  study  the  books  above  recommended, 
and,  through  the  whole  course  of  his  reading,  take  all  op- 
portunities of  conversing  with,  and  consulting  men  of 
judgment  in  books  ;  of  a  large  and  free  way  of  thinking, 
and  of  ex^nsive  knowledge.  The  consequence  of  which 
judicious  manner  of  proceeding  has,  in  many  instances, 
been  improvement  in  most  branches  of  science  to  a  mas- 
terly degree  to  thirty  or  forty  years  of  age.  But  this  sup- 
poses a  superior  natural  capacity,  and  various  other  advan- 
tages. 

Next  after  such  a  knowledge  of  languages,  numbers, 
geometry,  geography, chronology,  and  logic,  which  may  be 
called  instrumental  studies,  after  such  a  moderate  acquaint- 
ance with  these,  as  may  be  acquired  before  eighteen  or 
twenty,  youth  may  proceed  to  the  more  manly  studies 
of  history,  biography,  the  theory  of  government,  law; 
commerce,  economics,  and  ethics. 

I  mention  these  together,  because  there  is  a  connexion 
between  them,  which  renders  them  proper  to  be  carried 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  167 

on  in  succession,  as  they  will  mutually  assist  and  throw 
a  light  on  each  other.  And  I  advise  a  studious  youth  to 
improve  himself  in  such  branches  of  knowledge  as  these, 
before  he  proceeds  to  perfect  himself  in  the  higher  math- 
ematics ;  first,  on  account  of  the  incomparably  superior 
importance  of  a  thorough  knowledge  of  our  own  nature, 
state,  and  obligations;  the  indispensable  necessity  of  under- 
standing which  subjects  is  such,  as  to  make  all  our  pur- 
suits appear  comparatively  but  specious  trifling.  And 
secondly,  because  this  kind  of  knowledge  is  obviously  of 
such  a  nature,  as  not  to  hazard  any  possible  bad  effect  upon 
a  young  mind,  which  is  more  than  can  be  said  of  most 
other  branches  of  study,  indulged  to  great  length.  The 
vanity  and  affectation  which  a  little  unusual  knowledge  in 
classical  learning  gives  weak  minds,  is  so  conspicuous, 
as  to  have  occasioned  that  species  of  learning  to  be  termed, 
by  way  of  distinction,  pedantic  scholarship.  And  as  to 
mathematics  many  instances  could  be  produced  of  men  of 
very  fine  heads  for  that  science,  who,  by  accustoming 
themselves  wholly  to  demonstration,  have  run  into  an  affect- 
ed habit  of  requiring  demonstration  in  subjects*  naturally 
incapable  of  it,  and  of  despising  all  those  parts  of  study, 
as  unscientifical,  which  do  not  give  the  satisfaction  of 
mathematical  certainty.  Such  persons  thus  disqualifying 
themselves  for  improvement  in  the  most  useful  parts  of 
knowledge,  though  eminent  in  one  particular  way,  may, 
upon  the  wrhole,  be  properly  said  to  be  men  of  narrow- 
minds.  This  evil  might  have  been  prevented,  had  they 
timely  given  themselves  to  other  inquiries,  as  well  as  math- 
ematics, and  been  accustomed  to  apply  their  minds  to 
various  ways  of  searching  into,  and  finding  out  truth. 
But  the  natural  and  almost  unavoidable  effect  of  confin- 
ing the  mind  to  one  kind  of  pursuit,  is  the  hampering  and 
narrowing,  instead  of  enlarging  and  ennobling  it. 

At  the  same  time  it  ought  to  be  remembered,  that  noth- 
ing tends  so  much  to  habituate  to  a  justness  of  thought, 
and  accuracy  of  expression,  as  a  tincture  of  mathemati- 
cal knowledge  received  in  youth.  All  that  is  here  intended 
to  be  guarded  against  is  the  plunging  too  deep  at  first  into 
that  studv,  which  often  tends  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others 
for  life.     And,  as  was  before  observed,  no  part  of  useful 


108  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

or  ornamental  knowledge  is  to  be  excluded,  consistently 
with  a  view  of  a  complete  improvement  of  the  mind. 

Useful  books,  previous  to  the  reading  of  history,  are 
such  as  the  following,  viz.  JRoI/in's  Method  of  studying 
History,  in  his  Belles  Lcttrcs.  .  Boussefs  Discours  de 
l'Histoirc  Universelle.  Potter's  Greek  and  Kennefs  Ro- 
man Antiquities,  Strauclims'  and  Helvicus*  Chronology, 
Sleidan  on  the  Four  Monarchies,  Wheals  and  Fresneifs 
Methods  of  studying  History. 

In  order  to  read  history  with  perfect  clearness,  geogra- 
phy must  go  hand  in  hand.  The  system  of  Geography 
lately  published  together  with  Anson's  Voyage,  which  con- 
tains some  new  accounts,  not  in  that  work.  Well's  Geo- 
graphic, Classiea,  and  Senex's  New  General  Atlas,  may 
be  proper  to  perfect  a  gentleman  in  that  useful  branch  of 
knowledge. 

To  be  master  of  ancient  history,  let  a  person  first  peruse 
carefully  the  Universal  History,  consulting  all  along  the 
maps  of  the  several  countries  which  have  been  the  scene 
of  action,  and  referring  every  character  and  event  to  its 
proper  date.     After  this  general  view  of  the  whole  bodv  of 
ancient  history,  those  who  have  leisure,  and  other  aelvan- 
tages,  may  read  as  many  of  the  originals  as  they  please, 
especially  upon  the  more  important  characters  and  facts. 
They  are  all  along  cjuoted  by  the  compilers  of  the  above 
excellent  anel  useful  work.    Those  who  possess  the  learned 
languages,  in  which  those  originals  were  writ,  find  in  the 
perusal  of  them  a  peculiar  pleasure  even  where  the  facts  re- 
lated are  already  known.     There  is  a  purity  and  beautiful 
simplicity  in  the  descriptions  the  ancients  give,  which  dis- 
cerning readers  do  not  find  in  the  works  of  translators  or 
compilers.     Besides  that,  the  very  circumstance  of  the 
mind's  letting  itself  be  deceived  into  the  belief,  that  we 
reael  the  very  words  of  an  ancient  warrior,  or  orator,  though 
it  is  certain,  those  we  have  ascribed  to  them  by  historians, 
are  for  the  most  part  put  into  their  mouths  by  the  histo- 
rians, themselves  ;    the  mind's  persuading  itself,  that  it 
hears  the  very  words  and  accents  of  an  illustrious  charac- 
ter in  antiquity,  makes  the  perusal  of  an  original  peculiar- 
lv  entertaining  and  striking. 

Gentlemen  of  leisure  and  fortune  especially,  ought  In 
nn  means  to  be  without  a  little  acquaintance  with  Heroao 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  169 

tos,  Thurydides,  Polybius,  Xcnophon,  Diodorus  Siculus* 
and  Plutarch,  the  most  celebrated  Greek  historians  ;  nor 
with  Justin,  Livy,  Tacitus,  Casar,  Sallust,  Suetonius, 
and  Curtius,  the  greatest  among  the  Romans. 

Some  of  the  best  modern  histories,  are  Puffendorff^s  In- 
troduction, Hume  and  Smollefs  History  of  England,  Meze- 
ray's  and  Daniel's  of  France,  Mariana's  of  Spain,  VertoVs 
of  Portugal,  Sir  Paul Ricaufs  of  the  Turks,  Oakley'' s  of  the 

Saracens,  DuHalde's  of  China; of  the  Piratical  States 

of  Barbary,  Robertson's  of  America,  History  of  the  Con- 
quest of  Mexico,  of  Germany,  of  Naples,  of  Florence^ 
by  Machiavel ;  of  Venice,  by  JVamand  Paruta;  of  Genoa, 
of  Poland,  by  Connor ;  of  Holland,  of  Flanders,  by  itew- 
tivoglio. 

To  read  history  with  advantage,  keep  constantly  in  view 
the  following  ends ;  to  find  out  truth ;  to  unravel  if  possi- 
ble, the  grounds  of  events,  and  the  motives  of  actions ;  to 
attain  clear  ideas  of  remarkable  characters,  especially  of 
that  which  distinguishes  one  character  from  another ;  to 
profit  by  the  various  useful  lessons  exhibited ;  to  study 
human  nature,  as  represented  in  history,  and  to  endeavour 
to  find  out  which  characters  you  yourself  resemble  the 
most ;  and  to  remark  whatever  throws  any  light  or  evidence 
upon  religion. 

To  draw  up  in  writing  an  epitome  or  abstract  of  the 
most  shining  parts  of  history  and  eminent  characters,  as 
one  proceeds,  adjusting  the  chronology  and  geography  all 
along,  will  contribute  greatly  to  the  fixing  in  the  mind  a 
general  comprehensive  view  of  the  whole  thread  of  story 
from  the  oldest  accounts  of  time  downward,  disposed  ac- 
cording to  the  several  ages  and  countries  which  make  a 
figure  in  history.  But  this  will  require  leisure  to  execute 
it  properly.  Among  the  abridged  facts  might,  with  great 
advantage  be  disposed  a  sect  of  reflections,  moral,  political, 
and  theological,  as  they  occurred  in  the  course  of  reading, 
which  would  in  the  whole  amount  to  a  very  great  number 
and  variety ;  and  would  prove  an  agreeable  and  improving 
amusement  in  advanced  life,  to  peruse,  add  to,  and  correct, 
according  as  one's  judgment  matured,  and  views  enlarg- 
ed. A  man  of  leisure  and  abilities  might,  in  his  collec- 
tion of  historical  remarks,  unite  together  in  one  view  what- 
ever characters  seemed  to  have  anv  resemblance,  might 

y 


170  of  knowledge; 

set  against  one  another  such  as,  by  making  striking  con- 
trasts, might  set  oft'  one  another  to  the  best  advantage. 
He  might  observe  the  different  conduct  of  the  same  per- 
son at  different  times,  and  account,  from  the  different  cir- 
cumstances he  was  engaged  in,  for  those  differences,  in 
his  behaviour.  He  might  observe  how  one,  of  perhaps 
the  best  abilities,  was  unhappily  led  into  such  a  course  of 
conduct  as  has  blasted  his  reputation ;  how  another,  by 
missing  certain  advantages,  fell  short  of  the  character, 
which,  by  a  happy  coincidence  of  circumstances  he  must 
have  attained.  How  seemingly  inconsiderable  particulars 
in  the  conduct  of  princes  and  great  men,  have  produced 
strange  effects  in  the  affairs  of  mankind,  and  what  moment- 
ous consequences  to  the  rest  of  the  world  depend  upon 
the  behaviour  of  those  who  are  at  the  head  of  it. 

History  is  the  key  to  the  knowledge  of  Human  Nature. 
For  in  it  we  see  what  sort  of  beings  our  fellow  creatures 
are,  by  reading  their  genuine  characters  in  their  actions. 
These  a  person,  who  carefully  studies  history,  may  trace 
up  to  their  source,  and  pursue  and  unravel  all  the  wonder- 
ful disguises,  doublings,  and  intricacies  of  the  human 
heart.  Life,  as  it  is  generally  conducted  by  persons  oJ 
all  stations,  but  especially  of  the  highest,  appears  from 
history,  in  its  true  colours,  as  a  scene  of  craft,  of  violence, 
of  selfishness,  cruelty,  folly,  and  vanity.  History  shows 
the  real  worth  of  the  usual  objects  of  the  pursuits  of  man 
kind ;  that  there  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun ;  nothing  to 
be  wondered  at ;  that  mankind  have  been  from  the  begin- 
ning bewildered  and  led  from  their  real  happiness,  and 
the  end  of  their  being,  after  a  thousand  visionary  vanities, 
which  have  deluded  and  disappointed  them  from  genera- 
tion to  generation,  and  are  likely  to  do  so  to  the  last. 

What  can  be  moFe  entertaining  or  instructive,  than  in 
history  to  trace  this  world  of  our's  through  its  various 
states ;  observe  what  sort  of  inhabitants  have  possessed  it, 
in  different  periods  ;  how  different,  and  yet  how  much  the 
same ;  how  nations,  states,  and  kingdoms  have  risen,  flour- 
ished, and  sunk  ;  the  first  rise  of  government,  patriarchal, 
monarchial,  republican;  what  characters  have  appeared  in 
different  ages,  eminent  for  virtue,  or  infamous  for  wicked- 
ness ;  to  what  seemingly  slight  causes  the  most  important 
events  have  been  owing  j  the  arts,  by  which  one  man  has 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  171 

been  able  to  subdue  millions  of  his  fellow  ereatures,  and 
to  tread  on  the  neck  of  mankind;  the  motives  which  have 
put  men  upon  action;  and  the  weaknesses  which  have 
been  the  cause  of  the  baffling  of  their  schemes ;  the  force 
of  human  passions,  the  weakness  of  reason,  the  influence 
which  prejudices  and  attachments  have  on  the  conduct  of 
men,  the  surprising  heights  to  which  virtue  has  raised  some 
men,  the  difficulties  conquered,  the  honours  gained,  and 
the  lasting  fame  acquired  by  a  disinterested  love  of  their 
country,  the  madness  on  which  ambition,  covetousness, 
and  love  of  pleasure  have  driven  men ;  and  through  the 
whole,  the  influence  of  the  unseen  Providence  disappoint- 
ing the  counsels  of  the  wise ;  weakening  the  power  of  the 
mighty  ;  putting  down  one,  and  raising  another  up ;  and 
working  out  its  own  great  and  important  ends,  by  the 
weakness,  the  power,  the  virtue,  the  wickedness,  the  wis- 
dom, and  the  folly  of  mankind. 

History  is  the  great  instructor  for  all  ranks  in  life,  but 
especially  the  highest.  For  those  who  are  besieged  and 
blocked  up  by  triple  guards  of  flatterers,  (whose  chief  care 
and  great  interest  it  is  above  all  things  to  prevent  the  ap- 
proach of  truth)  in  history  may  see  characters  as  great,  or 
greater  than  their  own,  treated  with  the  utmost  plainness. 
There  the  haughty  tyrant  may  see  how  a  JVero  was  spoke 
of  behind  his  back,  though  deified  by  the  slavish  knee  of 
flattery.  Thence  he  may  judge  how  he  himself  will  be 
spoken  of  by  historians,  who  will  no  longer  dread  his  men- 
ace after  his  head  is  laid  in  the  dust.  Thence  he  may 
judge  how  his  character  is  perhaps  now  treated  in  the  anti- 
chamber  of  his  own  palace,  by  the  very  sycophants  whose 
servile  tongues  had,  the  moment  before,  been  lavishing 
the  fulsome  and  undistinguished  applause  on  his  worst 
vices,  which  they  had  sanctified  with  the  title  of  princely 
virtues.  History  will  faithfully  lay  before  him  his  vari- 
ous and  important  duty  (for  the  higher  the  rank,  the  more 
extensive  the  sphere  of  duty  to  be  performed)  which  those, 
who  come  into  his  presence,  dare  not,  or  oftener  will  not, 
instruct  him  in.  There  he  will  see  the  original  of  the  in- 
stitution of  government,  and  learn,  that  power  is  given 
into  the  hands  of  one  for  the  advantage  of  die  many;  not, 
according  to  the  monstrous  doctrine  of  tyranny  and  slaver}-, 
the  manv  made  for  one.     There  he  will  learn  everv  hon- 


172  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

est  art  of  government,  and  ean  be  engaged  in  no  difficult 
circumstance,  of  which  he  will  not  find  an  example,  and 
upon  which  he  may  not  learn  some  useful  instruction  for 
governing  mankind.  For  the  human  species  have  been 
from  the  beginning  very  much  the  same,  and  generally 
capable,  by  wise  laws,  strictly  executed,  by  a  judicious 
police  universally  prevailing,  and  by  the  powerful  example 
of  persons  in  high  rank,  of  being  governed  and  managed 
at  the  pleasure  of  able  and  politic  princes.  There  he  will 
see  the  difference  between  the  real  glory  of  a  Titus,  or  an 
Alfred,  and  the  horrible  barbarity  of  a  Philip  or  a  Lexvis. 
He  may  set  his  own  character  and  actions  at  the  distance 
of  a  few  centuries,  and  judge  in  his  own  mind,  whether  he 
will  then  appear  in  the  light  of  a  devourer  of  his  fellow 
creatures,  or  of  the  father  of  his  people  ;  of  a  wise  and  ac- 
tive monarch,  or  of  a  thing  of  shreds  and  patches ;  of  an 
example  to  mankind  of  every  sublime  virtue,  or  a  general 
corrupter  of  manners.  History  is  the  grand  tribunal,  be- 
fore which  princes  themselves  are,  in  the  view  of  all  man- 
kind, arraigned,  tried,  and,  often  with  the  greatest  freedom 
as  well  as  impartiality,  condemned  to  everlasting  infamy. 
And  though  it  is  the  mark  of  a  trulv  sreat  mind  to  dare 
to  be  virtuous  at  the  expense  of  reputation  ;  it  is  a  proof 
of  a  soul  sunk  to  the  lowest  baseness  of  human  nature,  to 
bear  to  think  of  deserving  the  contempt  or  hatred  of  all 
mankind,  the  wise  and  good,  as  well  as  the  unthinking 
and  worthless. 

There  is  not  indeed  a  lesson  in  the  whole  compass  of 
morals,  that  is  not  in  the  most  advantageous  and  pleasing 
way,  to  be  learned  in  history  and  biography,  taking  in  an- 
cient and  modern,  sacred  and  profane.  There  the  mad- 
ness of  ambition  appears  in  a  striking  light.  The  dread- 
ful ravages  produced  with  that  wide  wasting  fury,  when- 
ever she  has  possessed  the  frantic  brain  of  a  hero,  and 
sent  him,  like  a  devouring  fire,  or  an  overflowing  inun- 
dation, spreading  destruction  over  the  face  of  the  earth ; 
tlje  numbers  of  the  innocent  and  helpless,  who  have,  in 
the  different  ages  of  the  world,  been  spoiled  and  massa- 
cred, to  make  one  fellow  worm  great ;  the  human  heca- 
tombs, which  have  been  offered  to  this  infernal  demon  ; 
the  anxious  hours  of  life,  and  the  violent  deaths,  to  which 
unthinking  men  have  brought  themselves,  by  the  egregi- 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  173 

ous  folly  of  flying  from  happiness  in  pursuit  of  the  phan- 
tom of  a  name  ;  the  extensive  and  endlessly  various  views, 
which  history  exhibits,  of  the  fatal  consequences  of  this 
vice  ought  to  teach  the  most  inconsiderate  the  wisdom  of 
contentment,  and  happiness  of  retirement. 

In  history  we  see  the  most  illustrious  characters,  for 
that  worth,  which  alone  is  real,  the  internal  excellence  of 
the  mind,  rising  superior  to  the  mean  pursuit  of  riches, 
dignifying  and  sanctifying  poverty  by  voluntarily  embrac- 
ing it.  From  thence  we  cannot  help  learning  this  im- 
portant lesson ;  That  the  external  advantages  of  wealth, 
titles,  buildings,  dress,  equipage,  and  the  like,  are  no 
more  to  the  man,  than  the  proud  trappings  to  the  horse, 
which  add  not  to  his  value,  and  which  we  even  remove 
before  we  can  examine  his  soundness,  and  which  may  be 
put  upon  the  stupid  ass,  as  well  as  the  generous  steed. 

The  contrast  we  find  in  history  between  those  nations 
and  particular  persons,  who  studied  temperance  and  ab- 
stinence, and  those  whose  beastly  luxury  renders  them 
infamous  to  posterity,  ought  in  all  reason  to  convince  the 
readers  of  history  of  the  advantage  of  living  agreeably  to 
the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature.  The  spontaneous  and 
voluntary  approbation,  which  the  heart  immediately  gives 
to  virtue,  where  passion  and  prejudice  are  out  of  the  wa\ 
(as  is  the  case  where  we  consider  the  character  of  those  who 
have  been  buried  a  thousand  years  ago,)  seems  to  be  the 
voice  of  God  within  the  mind,  calling  it  to  the  study  and 
practice  of  whatever  is  truly  laudable.  Why  docs  not  every 
prince  judge  of  himself  with  the  same  impartiality  as  he 
does  of  the  Casars  ?  Why  does  a  private  person  indulge 
himself  in  vices,  which  all  mankind,  and  even  himself, 
abhor  in  a  Sardanapalus,  or  Heliogabalus  ? 

It  would  be  easy  to  write  a  book,  as  large  as  this  whole 
work,  upon  the  moral  advantages  of  the  study  of  history. 
But  to  proceed : 

The  writers  of  ecclesiastical  history  may  be  as  prop, 
erly  mentioned  here,  as  any  where  else,  viz.  JEusedius,  Soc- 
rates, &fc.  Cave's  Lives  of  the  Fathers;  Dapin's  Ecclesias- 
tical History  ;  Histories  of  the  Councils  ;  Bower's  History 
of  the  Popes  ;  Chandler's  of  the  Inquisition  ;  S teuton's 
History  of  the  Reformation  in  Germany ;  Brandt's  in  tfce 


1J4  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

Low  -  Countries  i  ltuchat\  in  Switzerland;  and  Burnet  s  in 
England.  To  which  add  Winston?  s  Sacred  History  ;  JW- 
fin's  Remarks  on  Ecclesiastical  History  ;  and  Mos/iei?n\ 
lately  published  work. 

Biography  is  a  species  of  history,  with  this  peculiar- 
ity, that  it  exhibits  more  minutely  the  characters,  and 
sets  forth  to  view  some  which  are  too  private  for  history, 
but  which  are  not  on  that  account  less  worthy  of  being; 
known,  but  perhaps  more  so  than  those  which,  being  more 
exposed,  were  more  disguised  and  affected,  and  conse- 
quently more  remote  from  nature,  the  knowledge  of  which 
ought  to  be  the  object  in  view.  There  is  no  sort  of  read- 
ing more  profitable  than  that  of  the  lives  and  characters  of 
wise  and  good  men.  To  find  that  great  lengths  have  been 
actually  gone  in  learning  and  virtue,  that  high  degrees  of 
perfection  have  been  actually  attained  by  men  like  our- 
selves, entangled  among  the  infirmities,  the  temptations, 
the  opposition  from  wicked  men,  and  the  other  various 
evils  of  life  ;  how  does  this  show  us  to  ourselves  as  utterly- 
inexcusable,  if  we  do  not  endeavour  toemulate  the  heights 
we  know  have  been  reached  by  others  of  our  fellow  crea- 
tures. Biography,  in  short,  brings  us  to  the  most  inti- 
mate acquaintance  with  the  real  characters  of  the  illus- 
trious dead;  shows  us  what  they  have  been,  and  conse- 
quently what  we  ourselves  may  be  ;  sets  before  us  the 
whole  character  of  a  person  who  has  made  himself  emi- 
nent either  by  his  virtues  or  vices ;  shows  us  how  he 
came  first  to  take  a  right  or  wrong  turn ;  how  he  after- 
wards proceeded  greater  and  greater  lengths;  prospects 
which  invited  him  to  aspire  to  higher  degrees  of  glory,  or 
the  delusions  which  misled  him  from  his  virtue  and  his 
peace  ;  the  circumstances  which  raised  him  to  true  great- 
ness, or  the  rocks  on  which  he  split  and  sunk  to  infamy, 
And  how  can  we  more  effectually,  or  in  a  more  entertain- 
ing manner,  learn  the  important  lesson,  what  we  ought  to 
pursue,  and  w  hat  to  avoid. 

Besides  Plutarch,  Cornelius  JS'epos,  Suetonius,  and  the 
rest  of  the  ancient  biographers,  the  moderns  are  to  be 
consulted.  The  General  Dictionary,  continued  by  the 
writers  of  Biographia  Britannica,  is  a  vast  treasure  of  this 
kinel  of  knowledge.  One  cannot  propose  to  pertise  tho- 
roughly such  voluminous  works.     They  are  only  to  have 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  175 

a  place  in  a  gentleman's  library,  and  to  be  turned  to  at 
times,  and  select  parts  to  be  read  and  digested. 

A  general  insight  into  the  theoretical  part  of  govern- 
ment, and  law,  seems  necessary  to  the  complete  improve- 
ment of  the  mind.  This  may  be  best  acquired  by  a  care- 
ful attention  to  history,  which  shows  the  original  of  gov- 
ment;  its  necessity  and  advantage  to  the  world,  when 
properly  administered  ;  its  corruptions  and  errors;  changes 
and  revolutions ;  ruin  and  subversion,  and  their  causes. 
This  is  the  proper  science  of  a  gentleman  of  eminent 
rank,  who  has  weight  and  influence  in  his  country. 

Proper  helps  for  this  study  are  the  following,  viz. 

Bacon,  Locke,  and  Sidney,  on  Government ;  Harring- 
ton's and  Sir  Thomas  Morels  Works ;  Grotius  on  the 
rights  of  War  and  Peace  ;  Puffendorjf's  Law  of  Nature 
and  Nations,  with  Barbeyrac's  Notes  ;  Milton's  Political 
Works,  which  are  to  be  read  with  large  allowances,  for 
his  zeal  for  the  party  he  was  engaged  in  ;  Sir  William 
Templet  Works  ;  Castiglione's  Courtier  ;  Rymer's  Fce- 
clera  ;  Wood's  Institutes;  L?  Esprit  des  Loix  ;  DomaVs 
Civil  Law  ;  and  The  Statutes  abridged. 

The  theory  of  commerce  is  closely  connected  with  the 
foregoing.  It  is  a  subject  highly  worthy  the  attention  of 
any  person,  who  would  improve  himself  with  a  general 
and  extensively  useful  knowledge;  and  for  persons  in 
eminent  and  active  stations  is  indispensably  necessary. 
Those  who  have  any  concern  with  the  legislature,  and  those 
who  are  at  the  head  of  cities  and  corporations,  if  they  be 
deficient  in  knowledge  of  the  interests  of  trade,  are  want- 
ing in  what  is  their  proper  calling.  Every  person  who  has 
either  vote  or  interest  in  choosing  a  representative  in 
parliament,  ought  to  make  it  his  business  to  know  so 
much  of  the  commerce  of  this  country,  as  to  know  how. 
and  by  whom,  it  is  likely  to  be  promoted  or  discouraged. 
And  if  all  was  rightly  regulated,  it  is  to  be  questioned  if 
any  one  ought  to  be  an  elector,  who  could  not  make  a 
tolerable  figure  in  the  house,  if  not  as  a  speaker,  at  least  as 
a  voter. 

To  acquire  some  general  understanding  of  the  theory  of 
trade  and  commerce,  a  gentleman  may  with  advantage, 
use  the  following  books,  viz.  Postlethxv  alters  Dictionary 
of  Trade  and  Commerce;  The  British  Merchant ;  Sir 


176  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

Josiah  Child  on  Trade  ;  Urtariz's  Theory  of  Trade  and 
Commerce ;  Universal  Library  of  Trade  and  Commerce ; 
The  Merchant's  Map  of  Commerce ;  Locke  on  Trade 
and  Coin  ;  Lex  Mercatoria  Rediviva  ;  Oldenburgh's  Ste- 
vens' and  Lockyer's  Pieces  on  Trade  and  Exchange  ; 
Davenant  on  Trade  and  Revenues ;  Gee  on  Trade ;  Tracts 
by  Mr.  Tucker  of  Bristol ;  and  Anderson's  History  of 
Commerce. 

But  whoever,  from  a  view  to  public  good,  would  per- 
fectly understand  the  present  state  of  the  commerce  of 
these  kingdoms,  as  it  is  continually  varying  and  fluctua- 
ting, he  cannot  expect  to  have  a  just  account  of  it  by  any 
other  means  than  the  informations  of  those  actually  engag- 
ed in  it. 

A  gentleman  may  afterwards  read  the  works  of  those 
writers  who  have  treated  of  the  human  nature  and  facul- 
ties, their  extent  and  improvement,  in  a  speculative  or 
theoretical  way.  After  having  studied  history,  he  will  be 
qualified  to  judge  whether  such  authors  treat  the  subject 
properly  or  not ;  and  will  be  capable  of  improving  and 
correcting  their  theory  from  the  examples  of  real  charac- 
ters exhibited  in  history. 

Mr.  Locke's  Essay  on  The  Human  Understanding  is 
the  foundation  of  this  sort  of  knowledge.  There  is  no 
good  author  on  the  subject  who  has  not  gone  upon  his 
general  plan.  His  conduct  of  the  understanding  is  also  a 
work  worthy  of  its  author.  The  great  Bishop  Butler, 
author  of  the  Analogy,  in  some  of  his  sermons,  which 
might  be  more  properly  called  philosophical  discourses, 
has  with  much  sagacity  corrected  several  errors  of  the 
writers  on  this  subject,  on  the  theory  of  the  passions,  and 
other  particulars.  The  works  of  Hutcheson  of  Glasgow 
may  be  perused  with  advantage.  He  is  both,  on  most 
points,  a  good  reasoner  and  an  elegant  writer.  Besides  these 
authors,  and  others,  who  have  written  expressly  on  this 
subject,  many  of  whom  have  said  good  things ;  but  have 
run  into  some  indisputable  pecularities  of  opinion,  on  ac- 
count of  which  I  do  not  choose  to  recommend  them  :  be- 
sides these,  I  say,  the  writings  of  almost  all  our  celebrated 
English  divines  and  moralists  contain  valuable  materials 
on  this  subject. 

The  inimitable  authors  of  the  Spectator,  Tatler,  and 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  177 

Guardian,  have  displayed  the  whole  of  human  life  in  all 
the  shapes  and  colours  it  appears  in.  These  admirable 
essays  may  be  read  as  a  ground- work  of  economics,  or  the 
knowledge  of  the  arts  of  life. 

There  would  be  no  end  of  giving  a  list  of  books  on  this 
head. — The  few  following  are  some  of  the  best,  viz.  The 
Rule  of  Life  in  Select  Sentences,  from  the  Ancients ; 
Apophthegms  of  the  Ancients;  Mason's  Self  Knowledge ; 
Charron  on  Wisdom  ;  Bacon's,  Collier"**  and  Montaigne's 
Essays;  Fuller's  Introduction  to  Wisdom  and  Prudence; 
The  Moral  Miscellany  ;  The  Practical  Preacher ;  and  The 
Plain  Dealer,  in  2  vols. 

Of  all  parts  of  knowledge,  which  may  be  properly  term- 
ed  scientific,  there  is  none,  that  can  be  so  ill  dispensed 
with  by  a  gentleman,  who  would  cultivate  his  mind  to  the 
utmost  perfection,  as  that  of  ethics,  or  on  the  grounds  of 
morality.  The  knowledge  of  right  and  wrong,  the  obliga- 
tions and  consequence  of  virtue,  and  the  ruinous  nature 
and  tendency  of  vice,  ought  to  be  perceived  by  every  well- 
cultivated  mind  in  the  most  clear  and  perfect  manner  pos- 
sible. But  of  this  most  important  branch  of  science,  and 
what  is  very  closely  connected  with  it,  viz.  Revealed  Reli- 
gion^ I  shall  treat  in  the  two  following  books. 

The  best  ancient  moralists  are  Plato,  Aristotle,  Epicte* 
tus,Hierocles,  Xenophon,A5sop,  Plutarch,  Cicero,  Seneca 
Antoninus.  Among  the  moderns,  besides  those  men- 
tioned under  other  heads,  and  besides  our  best  divines,  as 
Barrow,  Tillotson,  and  the  rest,  the  following  are  excellent 
moral  treatises,  viz.  Woolaston's  Religion  of  Nature  Delin- 
eated ;  Grove's  System  of  Morality  ;  Balguifs  Tracts  ; 
Cudtvorth's  Immutable  and  Eternal  Morality ;  Cumberland 
de  Legibus.  Add  to  these,  Glover's,  Campbell's,  and 
Nettleton's  Pieces  on  Virtue  and  Happiness ;  Wilkins  on 
Natural  Religion  ;  Fiddes  on  Morality  ;  The  Minute  Phi- 
losopher ;  and  Paschal 's  Thoughts.  But  no  writer,  an- 
cient or  modern,  on  this  subject,  exceeds,  in  closeness  of 
reasoning,  Price's  Review  of  Morals,  lately  published. 

Of  all  studies,  none  have  a  more  direct  tendency  to 
aggrandize  the  mind,  and  consequently,  none  are  more  suit- 
able to  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature,  than  those  which 
are  included  under  the  general  term  of  physiology,  or  the 
knowledge  of  nature,  as  astronomv,    anatomv,  botany. 

Z 


178  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

mineralogy,  and  so  on.  The  study  of  nature  appears  in  no 
light  so  truly  noble,  and  fit  to  ennoble  the  human  mind,  as 
when  compared  with  those  of  the  works  of  men,  as  criticism, 
antiquities,  architecture,  heraldry,  and  the  like.  In  the  for- 
mer, all  is  great,  beautiful  and  perfect.  In  the  latter,  the 
subjects  are  all  comparatively  mean  and  defective.  And 
whatever  is  otherwise,  owes  its  excellencies  to  nature,  as 
in  poetry,  painting,  sculpture,  and  so  forth.  The  first 
leads  us  to  know  and  adore  the  greatest  and  most  perfect 
of  beings.  The  last,  to  see  and  regret  our  own  weakness 
and  imperfection. 

The  system  of  nature  is  the  magnificent  palace  of  the 
King  of  the  universe.  The  ignorant  and  incurious,  to 
use  the  comparison  of  a  great  philosopher,  is  as  a  spider, 
which  retires  into  some  dark  corner,  and  wraps  itself  in  its 
own  dusty  cobweb,  insensible  of  the  innumerable  beauties 
which  surround  it.  The  judicious  inquirer  into  nature, 
in  contemplating,  admiring,  and  moralizing  upon  the 
works  of  its  infinite  Author,  proves  the  justness  of  his  own 
understanding,  by  his  approbation  of  the  perfect  produc- 
tions of  an  infinite  perfect  Being. 

The  sneers  of  superficial  men,  upon  the  weakness  which 
has  appeared  in  the  conduct  of  some  inquirers  into  nature, 
ought  to  have  no  influence  to  discourage  us  from  those 
researches.  If  some  few  have  spent  too  much  time  in  the 
study  of  insects,  to  the  neglect  of  the  nobler  parts  of  the 
creation,  their  error  ought  to  suggest  to  us  not  a  total  neg- 
lect of  those  inferior  parts  of  nature;  but  only  to  avoid 
the  mistake  of  giving  ourselves  wholly  to  them.  There 
is  no  species,  which  infinite  Wisdom  has  thought  worthy 
making,  and  preserving  for  ages,  whose  nature  is  not 
highly  worthy  of  our  inquiring  into.  And  it  is  certain, 
that  there  is  more  of  curious  workmanship  in  the  struc- 
ture of  the  body  of  the  meanest  reptile,  than  in  the  most 
complicated,  and  most  delicate  machine,  that  ever  was  or 
will  be  constructed  by  human  hands. 

To  gain  the  great  advantage  which  ought  to  be  kept  in 
view,  in  inquiring  into  nature,  to  wit,  improvement  of  the 
mind,  we  must  take  care  to  avoid  the  error  of  some,  who 
seem  to  have  no  scheme  but  the  finding  out  a  set  of  mere 
dry  facts,  or  truths,  without  ever  thinking  of  the  instruc- 
tion which  mav  be  drawn  from  the  observations  made. 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  179 

An  inquiry  into  nature,  (says  the  above  eminent  author, 
who  himself  went  as  great  lengths  as  aiw  one  ever  did  in 
that  study)  who  carries  his  researches  not  farther  than  the 
mere  finding  out  of  truths,  acts  a  part  as  much  beneath 
him,  who  uses  philosophy  to  lead  him  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  Author  of  Nature,  as  a  child  who  amuses  himself  with 
the  external  ornaments  of  a  telescope,  is  inferior  to  the 
astronomer,  who  applies  it  to  discover  the  wonders  of  the 
heavens. 

The  truth  is,  a  man  may  be  a  great  astronomer  and  phy- 
siologist, and  yet  by  no  means  a  truly  great  man.  For 
mere  speculative  knowledge  alone  will  not  make  a  great 
mind,  though  joined  with  the  other  necessary  endow- 
ments, it  gives  the  proper  idea  of  an  accomplished  char- 
acter. Sir  Isaac  Newton,  Mr.  Boyle,  and  those  who, 
like  them,  look  through  nature  up  to  nature's  God,  can 
alone  be  said  to  have  pursued  and  attained  the  proper  end 
of  philosophy,  which  can  be  no  other  way  of  any  real  ser- 
vice to  moral  agents,  than  in  so  far  as  it  has  proper  moral 
effects  upon  them. 

It  is  strange  that  any  man  can  think  of  the  several  won- 
ders of  nature,  as  the  two  extremes  of  stupendous  great- 
ness and  inconceivable  minuteness,  the  immense  variety 
and  wonderful  uniformity,  frightful  rapidity,  and  yet  unva- 
rying accuracy,  of  motions ;  the  countless  numbers,  and 
yet  ample  provision,  the  simplicity  of  causes,  and  variety 
of  effects,  and  the  rest,  and  not  be  irresistibly  led  to  think 
of  the  Maker  and  Governor  of  such  a  glorious  work ! 
How  can  men  think  of  a  globe  twenty-five  thousand  miles 
round,  as  the  earth  we  inhabit  is  known  to  be,  without 
thinking  of  the  hand  which  formed  this  mighty  mass,  and 
gave  it  a  figure  so  regular,  as  we  see  it  has  by  its  shadow 
cast  upon  the  moon  in  a  lunar  eclipse,  without  adoring 
Him,  who  could  as  it  were,  roll  the  stupendous  heap  be- 
tween his  hands  and  accurately  mould  it  into  shape  ?  But 
if  astronomers  are  right,  in  calculating  the  magnitude  of 
some  of  the  other  planets  to  exceed  many  hundred  times 
this  on  which  we  live,  and  the  sun  himself  to  be  equal  to 
a  million  of  earths,  whose  figure  we  observe  to  be  perfect- 
ly regular ;  what  can  we  think  of  the  eye  which  could 
take  in,  and  the  hand  which  could  form  into  regular  shape, 
such  cumbrous  masses?    If  we  consider  this  unwieldy 


180  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

lump  of  matter  on  which  we  live,  as  whirling  round  the 
sun  in  a  course  of  between  four  and  five  hundred  millions 
of  miles  in  a  year,  and  consequently,  sixty  thousand  in 
one  hour,  a  rapidity  exceeding  that  of  a  cannon  ball  just 
discharged,  as  much  as  that  does  the  speed  of  a  hor.se  ; 
cm  we  avoid  reflecting  on  the  inconceivable  might  of  the 
arm  which  brandished  it,  and  threw  it  with  a  force  pro- 
p  riioned  to  such  a  rapidity  "?  One  v  ^uld  think  those  who 
best  understand  the  laws  of  motion,  and  the  exactness 
necessary  in  adjusting  the  two  fold  forces  which  produce 
a  circular  or  eliptical  revolution  round  a  centre,  should 
be  the  properest  persons  to  set  forth  the  wonders  of  Divine 
Wisdom,  which  has  exhibited  such  instances  of  skill  in 
the  motions  of  our  earth,  and  other  planets  round  the  sun, 
and  in  the  compounded  motions  of  satellites  or  moons 
round  them. 

"Who  can  survey  the  countless  myriads  of  animalcules, 
which  with  the  help  of  the  microscope  are  visible  in  almost 
all  kinds  of  fluids,  when  in  a  state  tending  to  putrefaction, 
without  thinking  on  the  Almighty  Author  of  such  a  pro- 
fusion of  life  ?  When  some  grains  of  sand,  some  small 
cuttings  of  human  hairs,  or  any  other  body,  whose  real 
size  is  known,  are  put  into  a  drop  of  one  of  those  fluids 
which  exhibit  animalcules,  it  appears  evident  to  any  eye, 
that  a  grain  of  sand  must  be  equal  to  the  size  of  some 
millions  of  them. — For  the  grain. of  sand  appears  a  body 
of  a  great  many  inches  solid,  while  the  whole  fluid  seems 
filled  with  living  creatures,  even  then  (when  so  enormously 
magnified)  too  small  to  be  distinguished  :  I  mean  at  pre-- 
sent  the  smallest  species  of  animalcules,  for  the  most  infu- 
sions exhibit  a  great  variety  of  sizes — Two  or  three  times 
the  number  of  the  inhabitants  of  London,  Westminster^ 
and  Southivark  crowded  into  the  bulk  of  a  grain  of  sand ! 
Every  one  widi  an  organized  body,  consisting  of  the  vari- 
ous parts  necessary  to  animal  life  !  What  must  then  be  the 
size  and  particles  of  the  fluid,  which  circulates  in  the  veins 
of  such  animals  ?  What  the  magnitude  of  a  particle  of 
light,  to  which  the  other  is  a  mountain  ? 

These  few  particulars  are  thus  cursorily  mentioned,  only 
for  the  sake  of  an  opportunity  of  remarking  upon  the  ockl- 
ness  of  the  cast  of  some  minds,  which  can  spend  years 
in  examining  such  wonders  of  nature,  going  through  the 


•  OF  KNOWLEDGE.  181 

calculations  necessary  to  determine  facts,  and  yet  stop 
short  of  the  reflections  so  natural  upon  making  the  dis- 
covery, and  for  the  sake  of  which  alone,  one  would  think 
it  was  worth  while  to  have  bestowed  the  pains.  For  it  is 
really  of  very  little  consequence  to  us  to  know  the  exact 
proportion  between  the  magnitude  of  a  grain  of  sand 
and  an  animalcule  in  pepper- water ;  the  wonderful  regu- 
larity of  the  motions  of  all  the  great  bodies  in  nature, 
describing  equal  areas  in  equal  times  ;  the  amazing  prop- 
erties of  light  and  colours  ;  and  the  means  by  which  vision 
is  performed,  and  the  like  :  it  is,  I  say,  of  very  little  con- 
sequence to  know  a  number  of  facts  which  obtain  in  nature, 
if  we  never  consider  them  farther  tha 1 1  as  dry  uninterest- 
ing facts,  nor  think  of  applying  our  knowledge  of  them 
to  some  purpose  of  usefulness  for  life  or  futurity. 

The  invitations  to  acquire  a  general  knowledge  of  anat- 
omy are  innumerable.  An  animal  body  is  indeed  a  sys- 
tem of  miracles.  The  number  of  various  parts  adapted 
to  such  various  uses  ;  the  structure  of  the  bones,  as  the 
supporters  of  the  whole  frame ;  the  number  and  apt  inser- 
tion of  the  muscles,  for  performing  the  various  motions 
of  the  body  with  ease  and  gracefulness  ;  the  endless  vari- 
ety of  vessels,  tubes  and  strainers,  gradually  lessening  to 
imperceptibility,  with  the  fluids  circulating  through  them, 
and,  secreted  by  them,  for  the  various  purposes  of  nature, 
which  render  the  body  of  an  animal  a  system  in  which  a 
greater  number  of  streams  are  continually  flowing,  than 
those  which  water  the  largest  kingdoms  upon  earth,  or, 
more  probably,  than  all  that  run  in  all  the  channels  round 
the  globe. 

The  eye  alone,  that  miracle  of  nature,  is  a  study  for 
life  !  We  find  how  difficult  it  is  to  form  and  adjust  a  set  of 
glasses  for  any  compound  optical  instrument.  Yet  glass 
is  a  solid  substance,  which  will  keep  the  form  that  is  once 
given  it.  But  the  eye  must  be  considered  as  a  composi- 
tion of  various  coats  or  pellicles,  of  three  different  humours 
and  a  set  of  muscles,  to  alter  the  form  of  those  humours, 
and  the  aperture  of  the  eye,  instantaneously,  according 
to  the  situation,  or  distance,  brightness  or  obscurity,  of 
the  object  to  be  viewed  ;  at  the  same  time,  that  the  whole 
mass  of  the  eye  is  to  be  considered  as  a  system  in  which 
there  are  innumerable  streams  continually  flowing.     Now 


18^  OF  KNOWLEDGE.* 

.is  we  know,  that  in  order  to  distinct  vision,  the  laws  of 
optics  require  the  figure  of  the  eye  to  be  strictly  true  and 
regular ;  that  it  should  continue  lit  for  vision  for  a  few  mo- 
ments together,  considering  of  what  soft  and  pliable  sub- 
stance it  is  made,  and  how  continually  changing  its  figure 
and  state,  is  what  we  can  in  no  respect  give  an  account  of. 
How  delightful  is  the  search  into  these  wonders  !  How 
naturally  does  it  lead  the  well  disposed  mind  to  love  and 
adore  the  Almighty  Author  of  so  excellent  a  work! 

There  is  indeed  none  of  the  works  of  nature,  down  to 
the  most  common  and  contemptible  (if  any  thing  could 
be  so  called,  which  infinite  Wisdom  has  deigned  to  make) 
that  is  not  found,   when  attentively  examined,  to  be,  for 
curoisity  of  structure,   above  the  apprehension  of  any  hu- 
man mind.     What   is   meaner,  or  more  common  than  a 
pile  of  grass  ?  Yet,  whoever  with  a  miscroscope,  examines 
its  various  parts,  will  find  it  a  work  of  such  curiosity,  as  to 
deserve  his  highest  admiration.     In  the  blade  he  will  find 
a  double  coat  throughout,  between  which,  the  vessels  which 
convey  the  juices  to  nourish  it,  are  disposed.      The  mi- 
nuteness of  those  tubes  decreases  to  imperceptibility.    Nor 
do  the  same  vessels  carry  and  return  the  juices.     There 
are  in  every  plant,  and  consequently  in  every  pile  of  grass, 
two  kinds  of  vessels,  analogous  to  the  veins  and  arteries 
in  an  animal  body,  by  means  of  which  a  circulation  of  the 
juices  is  performed.     The   blade  is  also  furnished  with 
excretory  vessels  to  carry   off  by   perspiration  whatever 
juices  may  be  taken  into  the  plant,  which  may  be  super- 
fluous, or  unfit  for  its  nourishment,  and  with  absorbent 
vessels,  at  whose  orifices  nourishment  is  taken  in  from 
the  ambient  air,  as  well  as  from  the  earth  by  the  root. 
The  blade  is  always  furnished  with  a  strong  fibrous  sub- 
stance running  up  its  middle,  and  tapering  to  a  point,  for 
supporting  and  strengthening  it.     The  substance  of  the 
roots  of  ail  plants,  is  quite  different  from  the  other  parts, 
in  outward  form  and  internal  structure.     It  isso  in  grass. 
Every   single  tendril  is  furnished  with  vessels,  at  whose 
open  mouths  the  proper  juices  enter,  which,  as  they  mount 
upwards,  are  secreted,  so  that  those  which  are  proper  for 
each  respective  part,  are  conveyed  to  it ;  and  the  other  par- 
ticles, by  means  of  valves  and  other  contrivances  within 
the  vessels,  are  stopped  and  turned  back.     The  substance 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  183 

of  the  root  itself  is  of  three  sorts,  the  cortical,  or  bark, 
the  woody  part,  and  the  pith.  Each  of  these  has  its  ves- 
sels or  passages,  differently  disposed,  and  of  a  different 
size  and  make,  as  the  microscope  shows.  The  seed  it- 
self is  a  miracle  of  curiosity.  For  in  every  single  grain 
the  stamina  of  the  future  plant,  or  rather  of  the  plant  itself 
in  miniature,  is  disposed  so  that  the  growth  of  the  plant  is 
only  the  unfolding  of  the  stamina,  and  their  enlargement 
by  the  addition  of  new  juices.  If  the  opinion  of  some 
naturalists  be  well  founded,  viz.  that  in  the  stamina  con- 
tained in  a  seed,  there  are  also  contained  the  stamina  of 
the  plant  which  is  afterwards  to  spring  from  that,  and  so 
on  for  ever,  this  increases  the  wonder  infinitely.  It  is  like- 
wise observed,  that  almost  every  plant,  if  cut  off  above  the 
root,  will  send  out  new  branches,  leaves,  and  seeds  al- 
most endlessly.  So  that  it  would  seem,  that  every  stock 
of  every  plant,  and  consequently  every  stalk  of  grass,  as 
well  as  every  seed,  contained  almost  an  infinite  number  of 
other  plants,  branches,  leaves,  and  so  forth,  in  miniature. 
But  I  will  not  urge  this  too  far,  because  there  is  another  hy- 
pothesis, which  does  not  require  such  inconceivable  mi- 
nuteness of  stamina,  nor  their  beingthus  disposed  one  with- 
in another,  without  end,  from  the  creation  of  the  first  plant : 
I  mean,  the  supposition  of  those  stamina  floating  in  the 
air,  in  infinite  numbers,  and  being  received  into  proper 
matrices,  and  so  fructifying.  Be  this  as  it  will,  there  are, 
as  we  have  seen,  wonders  without  end  in  so  despicable  an 
object  as  a  pile  of  grass.  After  all  that  has  been  said,  there 
may,  for  any  thing  we  know,  be  a  thousand  times  more 
unknown  of  the  internal  substance  or  structure  of  a  pile  of 
grass.  We  know  not  how  two  particles  of  matter  come 
to  adhere  to  one  another,  why  they  do  not  fall  asunder  like 
grains  of  dust  or  sand.  We  know  not  how  the  particles 
of  nourishment  are  taken  into  the  vessels  of  the  root  of  a 
plant ;  how  they  are  carried  on  and  secreted  every  one  to  its 
proper  place  ;  what  it  is  in  the  make  of  the  particles  of  the 
juice,  and  effluvia  exhaled  from  the  root  and  blade,  which 
makes  them  taste  or  smell  differently  ;  what  disposition 
of  the  external  parts  makes  the  root  part  appear  white, 
and  the  blade  green,  and  so  on.  Yet  this  subject,  in 
which  there  are  so  many  curiosities  known  to  us,  and 
enough  of  inexplicable  difficulties  to  puzzle  all  the  philoso- 


184  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

phers  of  ancient  and  modern  times  is  no  rarity,  but  it  is 
every  where  to  be  met  with.  The  whole  earth  is  covered 
with  it.  Whilst  every  single  pile,  of  which  there  may  be 
some  thousands  in  every  square  foot  of  ground,  is  formed 
with  all  the  admirable  curiosity  and  exactness  I  have  been 
here  describing.  What  then  is  the  art  displayed  in  all 
the  various  and  numberless  plants  of  different  species 
which  cover  the  face  of  the  earth  ?  What  the  profusion 
of  workmanship  in  the  innumerable  multitudes  of  beasts, 
birds,  fishes,  and  insects,  which  inhabit  all  parts  of  the 
earth  and  waters  ;  of  which  every  single  individual  dis- 
plays wonders  of  inexpressible  power  and  inconceivable 
wisdom  beyond  number  ?  "  Great  and  manifold  are  thy 
works,  O  "Lord,  in  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all." 
If  a  person  has  a  strong  genius  for  mathematical  learn- 
ing, it  will  be  natural  for  him  to  improve  himself  in  the 
higher  parts  of  that  noble  science,  as  plain  and  spherical 
trigonometry,  conic  sections  and  fluxion^.  But  it  does 
not  appear  to  me  absolutely  necessary  to  the  idea  of  a  well 
improved  mind,  that  a  person  be  master  of  those  abstruse 
parts  of  mathematics.  On  the  contrary,  I  know  not 
whether  the  employing  a  great  deal  of  time  in  those  parts 
of  science,  which  are  rather  sublime  and  curious,  than 
useful  in  life,  can  be  justified;  at  least,  where  a  person 
has  a  capacity  for  improving  himself  and  others  in  useful 
knowledge.  On  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  owned,  that 
the-  exercising  the  genius  in  the  most  difficult  parts  of 
study,  is  not  without  its  uses,  as  it  tends  to  whet  the  capa- 
city, and  sharpen  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  which  may, 
for  any  thing  we  know,  be  of  advantage  to  it,  in  fitting  it 
for  the  sublime  enjoyments  of  a  future  state.  Add  to 
this,  that  it  is  not  always  easy  to  say  what  is  altogether 
useless  in  science.  What  has  been  at  its  first  discovery 
looked  upon  as  a  mere  curiosity,  has  often  been  found  af- 
terwards capable  of  being  applied  to  the  noblest  uses  in 
science,  and  in  life.  This  has  been  experienced  in  no  in- 
stance more  frequently  than  in  the  discovery  of  mathe- 
matical proportions.  Those  of  triangles  were  discovered 
before  they  were  found  to  be  of  such  important  usefulness 
in  mensuration  and  navigation ;  and  those  in  common 
geometry,  in  trigonometry,  conies,  and  fluxions,  before 
they   were   applied  to   astronomical   calculations.     Nor 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  J  85 

can  any  one  pronounce  with  certainty,  that  those  which 
have  not  yet  been  applied  to  any  direct  use  for  improving 
science,  or  art,  never  will,  or  are.  capable  of  it.  Upon 
the  whole,  the  pursuit  of  any  study,  however  it  may  seem 
merely  curious,  rather  than  useful,  is  an  employment  in- 
comparably more  noble  and  suitable  to  the  dignity  of  hu- 
man life,  than  those  of  pleasure,  power,  or  riches. 
Though  this  is  not  saying,  that  study  is  the  sole  business 
of  life,  or  that  it  may  not  be  carried  lengths  inconsistent 
with  our  present  state. 

For  improvement  in  the  higher  mathematics,  IVolfius' 
and  JFilson's  Trigonometry,  Mutter's  or  De  la  Hire's 
Conic  sections,  Ditton's,  Simpson's,  or  Maclaurin's  Flux- 
ions may  be  studied. 

At  last  we  come  to  the  summit  and  pinnacle  of  knowl- 
edge, the  utmost  reach  of  human  capacity,  I  mean  the 
Newtonian  philosophy.  This  sublime  of  science  is  what 
very  few,  perhaps  not  six  in  an  age,  have  been  found 
equal  to.  The  labours  of  that  prodigy  of  our  species  ; 
the  calculations  and  demonstrations  upon  which  he  has 
founded  his  immortal  and  impregnable  structure,  are  not 
to  be  investigated,  but  by  one  possessed  of  the  quickest 
penetration,  the  most  indefatigable  diligence,  leisure,  and 
vacancy  of  mind.  There  are,  for  example,  some  of  his 
problems,  which  few  men  can  hold  out  to  go  through  ; 
few  minds  being  capable  of  keeping  on  the  stretch  for  so 
long  a  time  as  is  necessary  for  the  purpose.  It  will  there- 
fore be  in  vain  to  advise  readers  in  general  to  try  then- 
strength  in  this  Achillean  bow.  It  is  however,  possible 
to  acquire  a  general  idea  of  his  philosophy  from  Pembcr- 
ton's  and  Maclaurin's  views  of  it.  They  who  would  go 
farther,  must  read  his  Principia  with  the  Jesuit's  Com- 
ment, and  his  Optics. 

I  will  here  give  a  list  of  books  which  will  make  a  pretty 
complete  and  useful  collection  upon  the  various  branches 
of  natural  philosophy  and  mixt  mathematics.  Ray's 
Wisdom  of  God  in  the  creation.  Derham's  Physio-theolo- 
gy. Nature  displayed.  Nieuxvertyt's  Religious  Philo- 
sopher. Bacon's  and  Boyle's  Works.  Lieuwenhowek's 
Arcana.  Adams'  Micrographia,  and  Baker's  Employ- 
ment for  the  Microscope.  Ray's,  Ruysch's  and  Gesner's 
History  of  Animals..   Willoghbuy's  Omithologia.    Swam- 

2  A 


186  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

merdam  of  Insects.  Keil's  and  Gravcsande's  Physics. 
Gravesande's,  Desagulicr's  and  Bowning's  ICxperimental 
Philosophy.  Hill's  History  of  Minerals  and  Fossils. 
BlackxueWs  Herbal.  Martin's  Philosophical  Grammarr 
and  Philosophia  Britannica.  The  tracts  whieh  give  an 
account  of  the  late  discoveries  in  electricity.  Hale's 
Statics.  Cotes'1  Hydrostatics  and  Pneumatics.  Miscel- 
lanea Curiosa.  Philosophical  Transactions  abridged,  and 
those  of  the  foreign  academies  of  science.  Muschenbroek'% 
Physical  Essays.  Keifs,  JVinsloiv's  and  Heister's  Anato- 
my. Monro's  Osteology.  Boerhaave's  CKconomia  Ani- 
malis.  Ray,  Malphighi,  Tournefort,  and  Sloan  on  Plants. 
A"<?//'sand  Gregory's  Astronomy.  Pemberton's  andiJ/crc- 
laurin's  Account  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  Discoveries.  Sir 
Isaac's  Principia,  with  the  Jesuit's  Comment.  Dr.  Hal- 
ley's,  Huygens'  and  Flamstead's  Works.  IF/iisto?i'sRt- 
ligious  Principles  of  Astronomy.  Smith's,  Gregory's 
and  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  Optics.  Boerhaave's  Chemis- 
try. To  which  add,  Harris'  Lexicon  Technicum  ;  Cham- 
bers' Dictionary  ;   or  the  Encyclopedia  now  publishing. 

A  gentleman  of  fortune  and  leisure  will  do  well  to  fur- 
nish himself  with  a  few  of  the  principal  instruments  used 
in  experimental  philosophy,  as  an  air  pump,  which  alone 
will  yield  almost  an  endless  variety  of  entertainment ;  to 
which  add  a  condensing  engine  ;  a  microscope,  with  the 
solar  aparatus,  which  likewise  is  alone  sufficient  to  fill  up 
the  leisure  hours  of  a  life;  a  telescope  of  the  Gregorian 
construction  ;*  a  set  of  prisms,  and  other  glasses  for  the 
experiment  in  light  and  colours;  a  set  of  artificial  mag- 
nets ;  an  electrical  machine  ;  and  a  pair  of  Mr.  Neale's 
patent  globes. 


SECTION  V. 

Of  forming  a  Taste  in  polite  Learning  and  Arts. 

TO  say,  that  a  gentleman  has  attained  the  utmost  per- 
fection of  the  human  genius,  who  is  ignorant  of  the  politer 
-.ciciices  of  criticism,  poetry,  oratory,  and  antiquities,  and 

*  The  best  and  Ir.r^est  instruments   of  this  kind,  beyond  comparison,  that 
have  ever  been  nr.de,  are  those  constructed  by  Mr.  Short  of  Surry*treet,  in  the 

Strand,  Lut..ic\. 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  187 

of  the  elegant  arts  of  painting,  music,  sculpture,  and 
architecture,  would  undoubtedly  be  improper.  And  yet 
it  may  justly  be  affirmed,  that  a  very  moderate  skill  in 
them  is  sufficient ;  as  that  kind  of  knowledge  is  at  best 
only  the  embellishment,  not  the  substantial  excellence  of 
a  character.  Nor  can  it  be  denied,  that  many,  especially 
men  of  fortune,  do  pursue  the  study  of  those  elegancies  to 
lengths  inconsistent  with  the  shortness  and  uncertainty 
of  life,  and  with  the  awful  and  serious  business  to  be  done 
in  it.  Solid  and  useful  knowledge,  especially  among  the 
great,  gives  way  almost  entirely  to  taste.  And  even  of 
that,  a  very  great  part  is  only  affectation  and  cant,  rather 
than  true  discernment.  In  music,  for  example,  I  think 
it  must  be  owned,  that  there  are  few  civilized  nations  in 
which  there  is  so  little  true  taste,  as  in  England ;  the 
proof  of  which  is,  the  extremely  small  number  of  our 
countrymen  and  women,  who  excel  either  in  performance 
or  composition.  In  France  and  Italy,  on  the  contrary, 
and  several  other  countries  of  Europe,  there  are  very  few 
towns,  or  even  villages,  in  which  there  are  not  some  able 
artists  in  music.  And  yet  we  know,  that  there  is  not  a 
country  in  the  world,  in  which  musicians,  especially  fo- 
reigners, are  so  much  encouraged  as  here.  This  cannot 
be  ascribed  to  our  natural  taste  for  music  ;  for  that  would 
appear  in  our  excelling  in  the  art.  It  must  therefore  be 
owing  to  an  affectation  of  what  we  do  not  possess,  which 
costs  us  a  great  many  thousands  a  year,  and  must  yield  but 
very  little  entertainment.  For  the  pleasure  a  person  re- 
ceives from  music,  or  any  of  the  other  beaux  arts,  is  pro- 
portionable to  the  taste  and  discernment  he  has  in  them. 

Perhaps,  the  same  might  be  said  of  some  other  elegan- 
cies as  well  as  of  music.  But  I  shall  only  in  general  add, 
that  whoever  pursues  what  is  merely  ornamental,  to  the 
neglect  of  the  useful  business  of  life ;  and  instead  of  con- 
sidering such  things  only  as  ornaments  and  amusements, 
makes  them  his  whole  or  chief  employment,  does  not 
understand,  nor  act  up  to  the  true  dignity  of  his  nature. 

On  the  study  of  classical  learning  and  antiquities,  I  can- 
not help  saying,  that  it  is  really  a  matter  of  no  small  con- 
cern, to  see  men  of  learning  straining  beyond  all  bounds 
of  sense  in  heaping  encomiums  on  the  great  writers  of  an- 
tiquity, which  there  is  reason  to  think  those  great  men 


188  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

would  blush  to  read.  To  hear  those  gentlemen,  one  would 
imagine  the  ancients  all  giants  in  knowledge,  and  the  mod- 
erns, pigmies.  Whereas  it  is  much  more  probable,  that 
the  antiquity  of  the  world  was  its  youth,  or  immature  age, 
and  that  the  human  species,  like  an  individual,  have  grad- 
ually improved  by  length  of  time  ;  and,  having  the  advan- 
tage of  the  inquiries  and  observations  of  the  past  ages, 
have  accordingly  profited  by  them,  and  brought  real  and 
properly  scientific  knowledge  to  heights,  which  we  have 
no  reason  to  imagine  the  ancients  had  any  conception  of. 

The  whole  advantage  antiquity  seems  to  have  of  the 
present  limes  as  far  as  we  know,  and  it  would  be  strange 
if  we  should  reason  upon  what  we  do  not  know,  is  in  the 
Avorks  of  fancy.  The  style  of  the  ancient  orators  and  poets 
is  perhaps  superior  to  that  of  any  of  our  productions,  in 
grandeur  and  in  elegance.  Nor  is  it  any  wonder  it  should 
be  so.  In  the  popular  governments  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
where  almost  every  point  was  to  be  gained  by  dint  of  elo- 
quence, and  where  kings  were  clients  to  private  pleaders, 
it  was  to  be  expected,  that  the  art  of  oratory  should  be 
cultivated,  and  encouraged  to  the  utmost. 

The  very  sound  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  gives  the  writ- 
ings in  those  languages  a  sweetness  and  majesty,  which 
none  of  our  feeble,  unmusical  tongues  can  reach.  How 
should  an  English  or  French  poet  have  any  chance  of  equal- 
ling the  productions  of  those  who  wrote  in  a  language 
which  expressed  the  most  common  thoughts  with  more 
pomp  of  sound,  than  our  modern  tongues  will  lend  to  the 
most  sublime  conceptions  ? 

Ton  d'apawcibomenos prosephe  podas  oiys  Ach'rfleus.  HoM. 

"  The  swift  footed  Achilles  answered  him." 

Here  is  more  grandeur  of  sound  to  express  almost  noth- 
ing, than  Milton  could  find  in  the  whole  compass,  of  our 
language  to  clothe  the  greatest  thoughts  that  perhaps  ever 
entered  into  an  uninspired  imagination.  For  what  is  there 
in  the  Iliad,  stript  of  the  majesty  of  the  Greek,  that  can 
equal  the  following  hymn  to  the  Supreme  Being,  sung  by 
the  first  parents  of  mankind  in  innocence  : 

"  These  are  thy  glorious  works,  Parent  of  good 
"  Almighty  !  Thine  this  universal  frame, 
•'  Thus  wondrous  fair.     Thyself  how  wondrous  then  ! 
"  Unspeakable  !  who  sitt'st  above  these  heav'ns, 
*•  To  us  invisible,  or  dimly  seen 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  189 

l'  In  these  thv  lowest  works.     Yet  these  declare 

"  Thy  goodness  beyond  thought,  and  pow'r  divine' 

<«  Speak  ye,  who  best  can  tell,  ye  son's  of  light ! 

"  Angels  !  for  yc  behold  him,  and  with  songs 

"  And  choral  symphonies,  day  without  night, 

"  Circle  his  throne  rejoicing.     Ye  in  heav'n  ! 

'-'  On  earth  join  all  ye  creatures  to  extol,  * 

"  Him  fust,  him  last,  him  midst,  and  without  end,"  &c. 

How  would  these  thoughts  shine  in  Homer's  Greek  / 
How  would  Longinus  have  celebrated  such  a  passage  in  a 
venerable  ancient !  How  would  our  Baciers  and  out  Popes 
have  celebrated  it !  Let  us  not  therefore  be  imposed  on  by 
sound;  but  while  we  pay  due  praise  to  antiquity,  let  us 
not  refuse  it  to  such  of  the  moderns  as  have  deserved  it 
even  in  those  arts,  in  which  the  ancients  have  exhibited 
their  utmost  abilities. 

But  though  it  should  be  confessed,  that  the  ancient  poets, 
orators,  and  sculptors  have  in  some  respect  outdone  the 
moderns  ;  when  this  is  said,  all  is  said,  that  can  with  truth 
be  affirmed  of  their  superiority  to  us.  For  in  most  parts  of 
solid  science,  they  were  mere  children :  there  physiology 
is  egregious,  trifling,  and  groundless  hypothesis,  drawn 
not  so  much  from  nature  as  from  fancy.  Their  theology 
or  mythology  is  a  mixture  of  sense,  mystery,  fable,  and 
impurity.  Their  ethics  are  well  enough  for  what  they 
have  delivered.  But  it  is  a  structure  without  connexion, 
and  without  foundation.  Whoever  has  studied  Woolas- 
ton's  Religion  of  Nature  delineated,  will  hardly  think  Aris- 
totle's Ethics,  or  Tally's  Offices,  worth  reading,  for  the 
sake  of  improvement  in  real  and  scientific  knowledge  of 
the  foundation  and  obligations  of  morality.  He  who  has 
digested  Dr.  Clark's  noble  work,  will  hardly  have  recourse 
to  Cicero ,  Of  the  Nature  of  the  Gods,  for  just  ideas  of 
the  Supreme  Being,  and  a  rational  scheme  of  religion. 
Who  would  name  such  philosophers  as  Plinu,  or  JElian, 
with  Mr.  Boyle,  or  Mr.  Ray  ?  Who  would  think  of  com- 
paring Aristotle's  Logic  with  Mr.  Locke's,  or  Ptolemy's 
Astronomy  with  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  ?  There  are  many 
whole  sciences  known  in  our  times,  of  which  the  ancients 
had  not  the  least  suspicion,  and  arts  of  which  they  have 
had  no  conception.  All  the  discoveries  made  by  those 
noble  instruments,  the  telescope,  the  microscope,  and  the 
airpump ;  the  phenomena  of  electricity  ;  the  circulation 
pf  the  blood,  and  various  other  discoveries  in  anatomy ; 


190  of  knowledge; 

the  whole  theory  of  light  and  colours ;  almost  all  that  is 
known  of  the  laws  by  which  the  machine  of  the  world  is 
governed  ;  the  methods  of  algebra  and  fluxions  ;  printing, 
clocks,  the  compass,  gunpowder,  and  I  know  not  how 
many  more,  are  the  productions  of  the  industry  and  saga- 
city of  the  moderns.  It  is  therefore  very  unaccountable, 
that  many  studious  men  should  express,  on  all  occasions, 
such  an  unbounded  and  unreasonable  admiration  of  the 
ancients,  merely  for  the  elegancies  and  sublimities,  which 
appear  in  their  works  of  fancy,  which  are  likewise  dis- 
graced in  many  places  by  a  trifling  and  childish  extrava- 
gance, running  often  so  far  into  the  marvellous,  as  quite 
to  lose  sight  of  the  probable.  Witness  Virgil's  prophet- 
ical harpies,  bleeding  twigs,  and  one-eyed  Brobdignagians ; 
Homer's  speaking  horses,  scolding  goddesses,  and  Jupiter 
enchanted  with  Venus'  girdle  ;  and  Ovid's  string  of  unnat- 
ural and  monstrous  fictions  from  the  beginning  to  the  end 
of  his  book ! 

Whoever  may  be  disposed  to  question  what  is  here  said 
as  a  peculiar  or  new  notion,  may  read  Mr.  Locke  on  the 
Conduct  of  the  Understanding,  and  Wotton's  and  Baker's 
Reflections  on  Ancient  and  Modern  Learning;  there  he 
will  find  the  subject  discussed  in  a  more  copious  manner, 
than  the  bounds  of  this  treatise  would  allow. 

It  is  therefore  very  necessary,  that  in  cultivating  a  taste, 
people  take  care  to  value  the  ancients  only  for  what  is  truly 
valuable  in  them,  and  not  to  perfer  them,  universally  and 
in  the  gross,  to  the  moderns,  who  by  the  advantage  of  suc- 
ceeding to  the  labours  of  their  ancestors,  have  acquired 
incomparably  the  superiority  over  them  in  almost  all  parts 
of  real  knowledge  drawn  from  actual  observation;  in  me- 
thod and  closeness  of  reasoning;  in  depth  of  inquiry;  in 
more  various  ways,  as  well  as  more  compendious  methods 
of  coming  at  truth;  and,  in  general,  in  whatever  is  useful 
for  improving  the  understanding ;  advantages  as  much 
superior  to  what  serves  only  to  refine  the  imagination,  and 
work  upon  the  passion,  as  it  is  of  more  consequence  that 
a  man  receive  improvement  in  true  knowledge,  than  that 
lie  pass  his  life  in  a  pleasing  dream. 

Besides  the  ancient  historians  mentioned  under  the  arti- 
cle of  history,  whoever  would  form'his  taste  upon  the  best 
models,  must  be  in  some  measure  acquainted  with  the 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  191 

Greek  poets,  as  Homer,  Pindar,  Sophocles,  Euripides, 
Callimachus,  Theocritus,  Aristophanes,  Anacreon.  Their 
orators,  as  Demosthenes,  Isocrates,  and  JEschines.  The 
philosophers,  whose  works  in  that  language  are  comedown 
to  us,  are  to  be  looked  into,  not  so  much  on  account  of 
their  sentiments,  of  which  above,  as  their  style  and  man- 
ner. The  chief  of  them  are,  Plato,  who  also  gives  an 
account  of  the  philosophy  of  Socrates,  Aristotle,  Xenophon, 
Plutarch,  Epictetus,  Longimis,  Jamblichus,  who  gives  an 
account  of  Pythagoras,  Theophrastus,  Hierocles,  jElian. 
To  these  may  be  added  Philo  Judceus,  Diogenes,  Laertius, 
and  Max  Tyrius.  The  greatest  ancient  philosophers, 
who  wrote  in  Latin,  are  Cicero,  Pliny,  Seneca,  Lucre- 
tius, Quintillian,  Lucius  Apulcius,  and  Boethius.  The 
best  Latin  poets  are  Virgil,  Horace,  Terence,  Juvenal, 
Persius,  Plautus,  Lucretius,  Seneca  the  tragic  poet, 
Martial,  Lucan,  Statius,  Ausonius,  and  Claudian 

Whoever  has  a  mind  to  look  into  the  Fathers,  after 
having  got  a  little  acquaintance  with  what  is  ascribed  to 
Barnabas,  Clement,  Hermas,  Ignatius,  and  Polycarp, 
and  with  the  remains  of  Clemens  Alexandrinus,  Ireeneus* 
Cyprian,  Tertullian,  Justin  martyr,  Origen,  Jerome,  Au- 
gustin,  Eusebius,  and  Lactantius,  or  as  many  of  them  as 
he  can  conveniently  look  into,  may  rest  contented  with 
what  he  will  have  gained  by  that  study. 

There  may  be  a  few  other  ancient  authors,  Greek  and 
Latin,  which  a  gentleman  may  find  his  advantage  in  look- 
ing into.  And  there  are  great  parts  of  most  of  those  here 
mentioned,  which  it  were  better  to  pass  over.  There  are, 
almost  in  all  the  ancient  uninspired  writers,  numberless 
exceptionable  and  wrong-turned  sentiments,  of  which  the 
judicious  reader's  discernment  will  obviate  the  bad  effects. 

Useful  books  in  criticism  are  Hesychius,  Suidas,  Hed- 
cricus''  Lexicon,  Scapula  and  Constanti?ie's Lexicon;  Ste- 
phens'' Thesaurus ;  Aitiswoj'th's  Dictionary ;  Potter's 
Greek,  and  Rennet  s  Roman  Antiquities  ;  Montfaucon's 
Pal(Vographia  Graca,  and  Antiquite  Expliquee ;  the  vari- 
ous authors  collected  in  Gravius'  and  Gronovius'  The 
saurus ;  in  Sallengre]s  A'ovus  Thesaurus ;  in  Gruter's 
Tax  Artium  ;  and  a  multitude  of  others  enumerated  by 
Wasse  in  his  Memorial  concerning  the  Desiderata  in 
Learning,  printed  in  Bibliotheca  Liter  aria,  Lond.   1122 


192  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

No.  iii.  Among  the  ancients,  Aristotle,  Longinus,  and 
Quint  Man.  Among  the  French,  Dacier  and  Bossu.  And 
among  the  English,  Addison  and  Pope  are  good  critics. 

I  cannot  here  help  making  a  remark  upon  the  manner  of 
most  of  those  professed  critics,  who  undertake  to  trans- 
late, comment,  answer  or  write  remarks  upon  authors. 
These  gentlemen  seem  generally  to  run  greatly  into  ex- 
tremes either  in  praising  or  blaming,  i  own  I  cannot 
persuade  myself  that  Homer,  for  example,  understood  the 
anatomy  of  the  human  body  as  perfectly  as  Boerhaave, 
merely  from  the  circumstance  of  his  wounding  his  heroes 
ih  so  many  different  parts.  Nor  can  I  think  that  Mr. 
Chambers  could  have  extracted  his  circle  of  the  arts  And 
sciences  out  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  even  with  the  help 
of  Pope's  and  Dacier's  notes  into  the  bargain.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  there  is  some  of 
the  genuine  spirit  of  poetry  in  Sir  Richard  Blackmore's 
works,  notwithstanding  what  the  satirical  Dean  Sxvift  has, 
in  the  bitterness  of  his  wk,  said  against  him.  Nor  does 
it  clearly  appear  to  me  that  all  the  heroes  in  the  Ditnciad 
deserve  a  place  in  the  list  of  votaries  of  the  goddess  of 
Dulness. 

I  have  made  this  remark  for  the  sake  of  taking  occasion 
to  caution  readers  not  to  let  themselves  be  misled  by  crit- 
ics or  commentators  ;  but,  after  endeavouring  to  fix  a  set 
of  rational,  clear,  and  indisputable  marks,  whereby  to  judge 
of  the  real  excellencies  or  blemishes  of  the  works  they 
read,  whether  ancient  or  modern,  to  read  the  critics,  but 
to  use  their  own  judgment. 

The  ber,t  English  poets  are  Spencer,  Milton,  Shaks- 
peare,  Waller,  Rowe,  Addison  and  Pope. 

I  mention  only  those  whose  writings  are  generallv  in- 
nocent. Wit  or  genius,  when  applied  to  the  corrupting 
or  debauching  the  mind  or  manners  of  the  reader,  ought 
to  be  doomed  to  infamy  and  oblivion.  And  it  is  the  dis- 
grace of  our  country  and  religion,  that  such  stuff  as  the 
greatest  parts  of  the  works  of  a  Dryden,  or  a  Congreve, 
and  such  like,  should  be  in  print. 

Among  the  French  there  are  several  good  writers  in 
the  Belles  Lettres,  as  Comeille  and  Racine,  Roll'm,  Da- 
cier, Fenchm,  Boileau  and  Moliere,  the  best  writer  of 
comedy  who  has  flourished  since  Terence;  his  charac* 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  1&3 

ters  being*  all  well  drawn,  his  moral  always  good,  and  his 
language  chaste  and  decent. 

To  acquire  a  taste  in  painting,  sculpture,  and  archi- 
tecture, travel  is  the  most  effectual  means.  But  such, 
whose  convenience  it  does  not  suit  to  go  abroad,  may  see 
some  small  collections  of  valuable  paintings  and  statues 
in  our  own  country,  and  may  with  advantage  read  on  paint- 
ing, and  design,  Harris.,  Du  Bos,  Richardson,  Fresnoy, 
Lairesse,  the  Jesuit's  Art  of  Perspective,  Des  Piles,  Roma 
Illustrata,  Da  Vinci,  Gravesande  and  Ditton  on  Perspective. 

On  architecture,  Palladio,  de  Chambray,  Felibien,  Se- 
bastian, Le  Clerk,  Perrault,  Freart  and  Evelyn,  And 
on  statuary,  Alberti  and  Richardson. 


SECTION  VI. 
Of  Travel. 

THERE  are  three  countries,  of  which  it  may  be  an 
advantage  to  a  gentleman  of  fortune  to  see  a  little ;  I 
mean  Holland,  France  and  Italy.  The  first,  with  a  view 
to  commerce  and  police  ;  the  second  to  the  elegance  of 
life ;  and  the  last  to  curiosities  in  art,  ancient  and  modern* 

There  is  a  pedantry  in  travel,  as  well  as  Other  accom- 
plishments. And  where  there  is  not  a  direct  view  to 
real  improvement,  a  great  deal  of  time  and  money  may 
be  very  foolishly  spent  in  rambling  over  the  world,  and 
staring  at  strange  sights. 

In  order  to  reap  benefit  from  travel,  it  is  absolutely  ne- 
cessary that  a  gentleman  know  well  his  own  country  be- 
fore he  sets  out ;  that  nothing  he  may  meet  with  may  be 
strange  to  him,  but  what  is  peculiar  to  the  place  he  travels 
through,  by  which  means  he  may  save  himself  a  great  deal 
of  otherwise  lost  labour.  This  will  also  enable  him  to  de- 
termine immediately  in  what  particulars  our  own  country 
has  the  advantage  of  foreign  parts,  and  the  contrary.  It 
will  also  be  necessary,  that  he  make  himself  master,  before 
he  sets  out,  of  as  much  of  the  knowledge  of  foreign  coun- 
tries, and  what  may  be  worthy  of  his  attention  in  them, 
as  can  be  had  in  books,  or  conversation  with  those  who 
have  travelled,  by  which  means  he  will  go  properly  prepar- 
ed to  every  place,  and  every  object.  A  correspondence 
with  men  of  abilities  and  interest  in  the  places  one  is  to  go  to. 

2  B 


194  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

ought  also  to  be  established,  before  he  sets  out,  that  no 
time  may  be  lost  in  finding  out  such  after  his  arrival. 

The  principal  objects  of  inquiry  of  a  traveller  are  evi- 
dently the  characters  and  manners  of  different  nations, 
their  arts  of  government,  connexions,  and  interests,  the 
advantages  or  disadvantages  of  different  countries,  as  to 
administration,  police,  commerce,  and  the  rest,  with  the 
state  of  literature  and  arts,  and  the  remains  of  antiquity. 
An  account  of  what  one  has  observed  in  each  different 
country,  with  the  remarks  which  occurred  upon  the  spot, 
ought  to  be  constantly  kept. 

Nothing  sets  forth  to  view  more  conspicuously  the  dif- 
ference between  a  young  man  of  sense  and  a  fool,  than 
travel.  The  first  returns  from  foreign  parts  improved  in 
easiness  of  behaviour,  in  modesty,  in  freedom  of  senti- 
ment, in  readiness  to  make  allowances  to  those  who  dif- 
fer from  him,  and  in  useful  knowledge  of  men  and  man- 
ners. The  other  brings  back  with  him  a  laced  coat,  a 
spoiled  constitution,  a  gibberish  of  broken  French  and 
Italian,  and  an  awkward  imitation  of  foreign  gestures. 

One  good  consequence  of  an  English  gentleman's  hav- 
ing seen  other  countries,  if  he  has  any  understanding, 
will  be,  his  returning  home  more  than  ever  disposed  to 
enjoy  his  own.  For  whoever  rightly  understands  where- 
in the  true  happiness  of  a  nation  consists,  will  acknowl- 
edge, that  these  highly  favoured  lands,  were  they  covered 
ten  months  in  the  year  with  snow,  and  boasted  neither 
tree  nor  shrub,  would  have  incomparably  the  ad- 
vantage of  Italy,  with  her  orange-groves,  her  breathing- 
statues,  and  her  melting  strains  of  music  ;  of  France, 
with  all  her  gaudy  finery  and  outside  elegance ;  and  of 
Spam,  with  her  treasures  from  the  New  World.  Who 
would  compare  with  happy  Britain,  a  country,  in  which 
even  all  these  united,  but  which  was  deprived  of  that  one, 
that  first  of  blessings,  the  glory  of  Human  Nature,  with- 
out which,  life  is  but  a  lingering  death  !  I  mean,  the  in- 
estimable privilege  of  enjoying  in  peace  whatever  heaven 
has  lent,  of  inquiring  freely  into  sacred  truth,  and  of  wor- 
shipping the  Almighty  Father  of  All  in  sincerity  and  sim- 
plicity, according  to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  unbiassed 
and  unternfied  by  dragoons,  by  racks,  and  fires,  and  mer- 
ciless inquisitors  ? 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  195 


SECTION  VII. 

Of  the  comparative  Importance  of  the  various  Branches 
of  Knowledge  respectively,  and  with  regard  to  different 
jRanks  and  Stations. 

WE  have  thus  taken  a  cursory  view  of  science,  and 
seen  what  is  to  be  studied  and  learned,  in  order  to  acquire 
the  distinguished  and  rare  character  of  a  man  of  general 
and  universal  knowledge.  To  be  completely  master  of 
every  one  of  the  branches  I  have  here  treated  of,  only  as 
far  as  they  are  already  known,  is  what  no  one  man  ever  will 
be  capable  of,  much  less  of  improving  them  by  new  dis- 
coveries and  additions  of  his  own.  But  a  man  of  fine 
natural  parts,  a  strong  constitution,  a  turn  to  application, 
an  easy  fortune,  a  vacant  mind,  and  who  has  had  the 
advantage  of  an  early  introduction,  in  a  free  and  rational 
manner,  into  the  principles  of  the  various  parts  of  knowl- 
edge, and  of  a  set  of  learned  and  communicative  friends, 
and  of  travel ;  such  a  person  may,  in  the  course  of  a  life, 
acquire  a  masterly  knowledge  of  the  fundamental  and  prin- 
cipal parts  of  science,  so  as  to  apply  them  with  ease  and 
readiness  to  his  occasions  for  entertaining  and  instructing 
others,  as  well  as  enriching  and  aggrandizing  his  own  mind, 
and  perfecting  his  whole  character.  Such  a  person  may 
also  improve  some  particular  parts  of  knowledge  by  his 
sagacity  and  industry. 

To  consider  only  one's  own  entertainment  and  advan- 
tage, one  ought  rather  to  desire  a  general  knowledge  in  a 
variety  of  ways,  than  to  carry  any  one  particular  science 
to  great  lengths.  For  the  advantage  of  learning,  the  im- 
provement of  a  single  art  or  science  is  the  most  valuable 
to  man,  though  he  may  not  be  at  all  a  completely  accom- 
plished character. 

The  most  important  of  all  sciences,  is  ethics,  with 
whatever  is  connected  with  them,  as  theology,  history, 
the  theory  of  government,  and  the  like.  Next  to  these 
physiology  at  large,  or  whatever  comes  under  the  head  of 
pure  and  mixed  mathematics.  Inferior  to  these  in  import- 
ance are  the  politer  arts  of  poetry,  painting,  architecture 
and  the  rest.  And  to  possess  ever  so  perfect  a  knowledge  of 
languages  only,  I  should  reckon  the  lowest  pitch  of  learning, 


196  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

For  persons  of  the  mercantile  ranks  of  life,  the  Lathi 
and  French  languages,  writing,  arithmetic,  and  merchants' 
accounts,  geography,  history,  and  the  theory  of  commerce, 
are  the  indispensable  branches  of  learning.  They  may 
pursue  the  others  to  what  lengths  their  circumstances  and 
leisure  will  allow. 

To  accomplish  a  gentleman  for  the  bench,  or  for  the 
employment  of  a  chamber-counsellor,  a  perfect  knowledge 
of  the  theory  of  government,  and  foundations  of  society, 
is  indispensably  necessary.  To  which  must  be  added  an 
immense  apparatus  of  knowledge  of  the  several  species  of 
law  (which  in  England  is  the  most  voluminous  and  un- 
wieldy of  all  studies ;  our  law  being  to  the  shame  of  jus- 
tice, a  chaos,  not  an  universe)  and  almost  of  every  thing 
else,  about  which  mankind  have  any  connexion,  or  inter- 
course with  one  another.  As  I  cannot  see  the  business  of 
pleading  at  the  bar,  in  any  other  light  than  that  of  a  mischie- 
vous invention,  calculated  wholly  for  the  purpose  of  dis- 
guising truth,  and  altogether  incapable  of  being  applied  to 
any  honest  purpose,  (for  truth  wants  no  colouring)  I  shall 
therefore  say  nothing  farther  on  the  head  of  law. 

The  physician  ought  to  be  furnished  with  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  whole  body  of  Physiology.  The  main 
pillars,  on  which  he  is  to  erect  his  structure,  are  anatomy, 
chemistry,  and  botany.  But  the  ablest  and  most  success* 
ful  of  the  faculty  have  always  acknowledged,  that  expe- 
rience is  the  only  sure  foundation  for  practice  ;  and  have 
advised  students  in  that  faculty,  rather  to  neglect  all  other 
books,  than  those,  which  contain  the  history  of  diseases, 
and  methods  of  cure,  delivered  by  those  who  have  been 
eminent  in  the  therapeutic  art. 

As  for  divines,  I  cannot  help,  with  great  submission, 
remarking,  that  there  is  no  order  of  men  whatever,  whose 
studies  and  inquiries  ought  to  be  more  universal  and  exten- 
sive. Phylological  learning  has  in  my  humble  opinion, 
been  too  much  honoured  in  being  regarded  as  almost  the 
only  necessary  accomplishment  of  the  clergy.  To  form 
the  important  character  of  a  teacher  of  Sacred  Truth,  a 
dispenser  of  Divine  Knowledge ;  what  superior  natural 
gifts,  what  noble  improvements  are  not  necessary  in  our 
times,  when  the  miraculous  powers  by  which  Christianity 
was  first  established  have  ceased !  If  it  be  the  important 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  197 

business  of  that  sacred  order  of  men  to  labour  for  the  im- 
provement of  Human  Nature,  it  seems  highly  necessary, 
that  they  perfectly  understand  Human  Nature.  If  the 
reformation  of  mankind  be  their  province,  they  ought  to 
be  acquainted  with  the  ways  of  men,  as  they  are  to  be 
learned  from  history,  and  by  conversation.  The  prevail- 
ing vices  of  the  times ;  the  hindrances  to  amendment;  the 
current  errors  in  opinion ;  the  secret  springs  of  the  mind,  by 
which  it  is  worked  to  good  or  bad  purposes  ;  the  innocent 
stratagems,  by  which  mankind  are  to  be  won,  first  to  listen 
to,  and  then  to  follow  advice ;  the  gentle  arts  of  touching 
their  passions,  and  acting  upon  their  minds,  in  such  a 
manner  as  will  suit  their  various  casts  and  inclinations  ; 
these  ought  to  be  so  thoroughly  understood  by  a  divine, 
that  he  may,  both  in  the  pulpit,  and  in  conversation,  (by 
which  last,  he  may  gain  as  many,  or  perhaps  more  pros- 
elytes to  virtue,  than  any  way)  be  completely  furnished 
for  the  instruction  and  reformation  of  mankind.  The  works 
of  nature  hold  forth  distinctly  the  glorious  Author  of  Na- 
ture. That  knowledge  ought  therefore  to  be  thought  a 
necessary  part  of  the  learning  of  the  sacred  dispensers  of 
religion,  since  just  notions  of  God  are  the  foundation  of 
true  religion.  To  enter  deeply  into  the  profound  sense 
and  noble  beauties  of  Scripture,  a  considerable  knowl- 
edge ojf  the  languages,  in  which  the  sacred  books  were 
penned,  is  absolutely  necessary.  For  the  true  idea  of 
preaching,  is  making  mankind  acquainted  with  Divine 
Revelation,  as  it  stands  in  the  Bible,  from  which  every 
single  doctrine  or  precept,  to  be  communicated  to  the  peo- 
ple, is  to  be  drawn,  and  from  no  other  fountain  whatever. 
It  is  therefore  greatly  to  be  wished,  that  the  too  prevalent 
custom  of  taking  a  detached  passage  of  Scripture  as  a  mot- 
to, and  declaiming  upon  the  subject  from  the  preacher's 
own  funds,  were  changed  for  a  judicious  practical  com- 
ment upon  a  connected  portion  of  Holy  Writ,  in  such  a 
manner,  that  the  audience  might  in  time  comprehend  the 
general  scheme  of  Revelation,  and  to  read  the  Scriptures 
with  understanding,  so  as  to  judge  for  themselves.  To 
be.  duly  qualified  for  this,  a  very  great  apparatus  of  criti- 
cal learning,  and  knowledge  of  Oriental  Antiquity,  and 
History,  civil  and  ecclesiastic,  is  necessary.  A  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  obligations  of  morality  being  absolutely 


198  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

necessary  to  a  teacher  of  virtue,  it  is  required,  that  he  be  a 
master  in  the  science  of  ethics.  And,  as  much  more  is 
to  be  done  with  mankind  by  affecting  their  passions,'  than 
by  a  cool  address  to  their  reason  (though  truth  ought  to  be 
the  basis  of  the  pathetic)  the  principles  of  oratory  arc  io 
be  well  understood  by  a  preacher.  Nor  ought  the  embel- 
lishments of  delivery  to  be  neglected,  as  (I  cannot  help 
adding  with  concern)  they  are  to  a  shameful  degree.  For 
while  the  mock  hero  of  the  theatre  studies  how  to  give  the 
utmost  force  of  utterance  to  every  syllable  cA  the  fustian 
rant,  which  makes  the  bulk  of  our  stage  entertainments, 
the  venerable  explainer  of  the  Divine  will  to  mankind, 
treats  of  the  beauty  of  virtue,  the  deformity  of  vice,  the 
excellencies  of  a  religion  which  has  God  himself  for  its 
author,  the  endless  joys  of  heaven,  and  the  hideous  pun- 
ishments of  hell,  and  all  in  a  manner  so  unmoved  and  un- 
moving,  that,  while  the  actor  becomes  the  real  character 
he  represents,  and  commands  every  passion  at  his  pleasure, 
the  preacher  can  hardly  gain  attention  ;  hardly  seems  him- 
self (if  we  did  not  know  it  otherwise)  to  believe  his  own 
doctrines,  or  to  care  whether  his  audience  do  or  not. 

But  to  return  ;  there  is  scarce  any  branch  of  knowledge 
which  does  not,  one  way  or  other,  add  a  confirmation  to 
revealed  religion.  Which  shows,  that  if  it  were  possible 
for  a  clergyman  to  master  the  whole  circle  of  the  sciences, 
he  would  find  use  and  advantage  from  his  acquisitions. 
And  in  conversation,  what  an  ascendant  would  not  a  gen- 
eral knowledge  of  arts,  of  trade,  of  the  various  ways  of  life, 
give  a  reformer  of  manners  over  mankind,  for  their  advan- 
tage, when  he  could  enter  into  their  ways,  and  deal  with 
them  upon  their  own  terms  ? 

Considering  the  variety  of  requisites  for  completely 
accomplishing  a  divine,  one  cannot  help  saying,  with  the 
apostle,  "  Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things  ?"  But  be  it 
at  the  same  time  observed,  and  let  this  work,  if  it  should 
remain,  inform  posterity,  that,  by  the  confession  of  all 
sober  and  judicious  persons,  and  to  the  confusion  of  the 
unthinking  opposers  of  religion,  and  its  dispensers,  no 
period,  since  the  first  ages  of  the  church,  could  boast  a  set 
of  clergy  of  all  ranks  and  denominations  superior  to  those 
of  Britain  at  this  present  time,  either  in  human  learning, 
Hi  knowledge  of  Scripture,  or  sanctity  of  manners.    Which 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  199 

things  being  so,  what  words  shall  be  found  equal  to  the 
atrocicusness  of  their  guilt,  who  have  it  in  their  power, 
but  will  not  take  the  trouble,  to  remove  from  off  the  necks 
of  the  clergy  the  galling  yoke  of  subscription  to  articles, 
creeds,  and  confessions,  the  impositions  of  men,  in  many 
particulars  unintelligible,  in  more,  incredible,  and  in  all, 
superfluous?  If  Holy  Scripture  be,  as  declared  in  the 
articfes  of  the  church  of  England,  the  only,  and  the  suffi- 
cient rule  of  faith. 

The  Hebrew  original,  and  Septuagmt  translation  of  the 
Old  Testament,  the  New  in  the  original  Greek,  with 
Beza's  Latin;  and  Taylor's  Hebrew  Concordance,  and 
Schmidus'  Greek,  are  the  foundation  of  a  clergyman's 
library. 

Some  of  the  best  commentators  of  Scripture,  are  Eras- 
mus, Beza,  Grotius,  and  the  authors  in  the  collection 
called  Critici  Sacri  abridged  in  Pooled  Synoposis.  The 
works  of  the  following  writers  are  also  valuable,  viz.  Mede, 
Patrick,  Hammond,  the  Fratres  Polonii,  Vorstius,  Raphe  - 
lius,  Eisner,  Bos,  Calmet,  Whitby,  Ainsworth,  Newton, 
Locke,  Clarke,  Pylc,  Pierce,  Taylor,  Benson,  Lowman, 
to  which  add  Fortuity  Sacra;  Knatchbull on  Select  Texts, 
and  many  more. 

Besides  the  books  mentioned  under  the  heads  of  polite 
learning,  philosophy,  and  other  parts  of  knowledge,  which 
no  gentleman  ought  to  be  without,  and  besides  those  re- 
commended under  the  articles,  ethics,  and  church  history, 
the  following  ought  by  any  means  to  have  a  place  in  the 
study  of  every  divine ;  being  the  best  helps  for  understand- 
ing those  parts  of  knowledge,  which  are  to  him  essential; 
viz.  Josephus  ;  PhiloJudxus ;  Stillingfieet's  Origines  Sa- 
cra ;  Prideaux's  and  Shuckford's  Connexions ;  Spencer 
on  the  Laws  of  the  Jews,  Grotius',  Locke's,  Conybeare's, 
Leland's,  Jenkins',  Foster's,  Benson's,  Lardner's,  Lyttle- 
ton's,  West's,  Duchal's,  Jortin's,  and  Chandler's  Defences 
of  Christianity ;  Clarke  on  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion  ; 
Butler's  Analogy  ;  Rymcr's  Representation  of  Revealed 
Religion ;  Millar's  History  of  the  Propagation  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  J^axv's,  Edwards',  and  Watts'  Surveys  of  the 
Divine  Dispensations,  and  Revelation  examined  with  can- 
dour. 

It  is  with  no  small  pleasure  that  all  sincere  lovers  of 


200  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

truth  observe  the  greatest  and  best  of  men,  in  our  latei 
and  more  improved  times,  bravely  asserting  the  noble  and 
manly  liberty  of  rejecting  hypotheses  in  philosophy,  and 
systems  in  religion ;  and  daring  to  appeal,  from  conjec- 
ture in  the  former,  and  human  authority  in  the  latter,  to 
the  works  of  God  in  the  natural  world,  and  his  word  in 
Scripture,  the  only  pure  and  uncorrupted  fountains^  from 
whence  the  candid  and  inquisitive  mind  may  draw  the 
wholesome  stream  of  unsophisticated  knowledge.  That 
a  worm  of  the  earth  should  pretend  to  impose  upon  his 
fellow  creature  the  poor  invention  of  his  troubled  fancy 
for  the  sacred  truth  of  God,  while  the  blessed  volume  of 
Divine  Revelation  itself  lies  open  to  every  eye,  is  a  de- 
gree of  presumption,  which  could  scarce  have  been  ex- 
pected. And  yet  it  is  notorious,  that,  by  means  of  hu- 
man interposition,  the  Divine  scheme  has,  especially  in 
one  church,  been  so  egregiously  perverted,  as  to  be  well 
nigh  defeated  of  its  gracious  intention.  But  all  societies, 
who  have  in  any  degree,  infringed  the  freedom  of  inquiry, 
have  violated  truth,  and  injured  the  cause  of  religion. 
Nor  only  they,  who  have  had  power  to  back  with  threat  - 
enings  and  punishments  their  own  invented  and  imposed 
doctrines,  but  all  who  have  made  Holy  Scripture  a  sub- 
ject of  party  zeal  and  have  loaded  the  world  with  systems 
piled  on  systems,  and  confounded  the  understandings  of 
mankind  with  subtle  distinction,  and  voluminous  contro- 
versies, are  to  be  considered  as  nuisances  in  the  world  ol 
letters  and  their  works  be  left  a  prey  to  the  book  worm. 
A  clergyman  has  no  occasion  to  crowd  his  library  with 
systematic  or  polemic  lumber.  Such  authors  may  dis- 
tract his  understanding  ;  but  will  not  enlighten  it.  If  he 
cannot  in  the  Sacred  books,  with  the  help  of  the  best 
commentators,  read  the  truth  of  God,  he  will  not  find  it 
in  human  systems  and  controversies. 

People  of  fortune  are  peculiarly  inexcusable,  if  the} 
neglect  the  due  improvement  of  their  minds  in  the  most 
general  and  extensive  manner.  And  yet  it  is  to  be  la- 
mented, that  no  rank  is  more  deficient  in  this  respect  than 
that  of  the  rich  and  great.  That  they,  who  pretend  to  set 
themselves  at  the  head  of  the  world,  should  be  obliged  to 
own  themselves  generally  iRftoor  to  those  they  call  their 
inferiors  in  the  very  accomplishments  which  give  the  most 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  201 

just  pretensions  to  superiority  !  What  can  be  more  shame- 
ful !  The  man  of  business  may  plead  for  his  excuse,  that 
he  has  wanted  the  necessary  leisure  for  improving  himself 
by  study  ;  the  man  of  narrow  fortune,  that  he  could  not  go 
to  the  expense  of  education,  books,  and  travel ;  but  what 
can  a  lord  plead  in  excuse  for  his  ignorance,  except  that 
he  thought  himself  in  duty  bound  to  waste  his  time  and 
his  fortune,  upon  wenches,  horses,  dogs,  players,  fiddlers, 
and  flatterers  ? 

The  proper  and  peculiar  study  of  a  person  of  high  rank 
is  the  knowledge  of  the  interest  of  his  country.  But  a 
man  of  condition  ought  to  be  ignorant  of  no  part  of 
useful  or  ornamental  knowledge. 

I  will  conclude  what  I  have  to  say  on  the  several  ranks 
of  life,  and  the  peculiar  and  indispensable  scientific  ac- 
complishments of  each  respectively,  by  adding,  what  can- 
not be  too  often  repeated,  That  a  perfect .  knowledge  of 
morality  and  Christianity  is  the  noblest  endowment  of 
every  man  and  woman  of  every  rank  and  order.  A 
strong  and  thorough  sense  of  the  absolute  necessity  of  uni- 
versal virtue  and  goodness,  as  the  only  means  of  happi- 
ness, ought  to  be  worked  into  the  understanding,  the 
will,  and  every  faculty  of  every  rational  mind  in  the 
universe. 


SECTION  VIII. 

Miscellaneous  Cautions  and  Directions  for  the  Conduct  of 

Study. 

I  WILL  add  to  what  I  have  said  on  that  part  of  the 
Dignity  of  Life,  which  consists  in  the  improvement  of 
the  mind  by  knowledge,  a  few  brief  remarks,  chiefly  on 
the  errors  which  people  commonly  run  into  in  study, 
which  are  the  causes  of  their  failing  of  the  end  they  have 
in  view. 

First,  reading,  or  rather  running  through  a  multitude 
of  books,  without  choice  or  distinction,  is  not  the  way  to 
acquireTeal  improvement  in  knowledge.  It  is  only  what 
we  digest,  and  understand  clearly,  that  is  ours.  And  it  is 
not  possible,  that  an  insatiable  devourer  of  books  can  have 
time  to  examine,  recollect,  and  dispose  in  his  head  all  he 

'2  C 


1202  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

reads.  The  judgment  of  reading  is,  to  make  one's  self 
master  of  a  few  of  the  best  books  on  a  subject  ;  in  doing 
which,  a  man  of  a  tolerable  apprehension  will  have  acquir- 
ed clear  notions  of  it,  or  at  least  of  the  great  lines  and  prin- 
cipal heads  of  it. 

Some  men  of  abilities  run  into  the  error  of  grasping  at 
too  great  an  extent  and  variety  of  knowledge,  without  fix- 
ing upon  one  study,  with  a  view  to  pursue  it  a  competent 
length.  Life  is  short  and  uncertain,  and  awful  and  im- 
portant the  work  to  be  done  in  it.  Every  man  has  his 
proper  business  as  a  citizen,  and  his  proper  study  as  a 
man,  to  pursue.  The  knowledge  more  indispensably 
necessary  to  one's  particular  rank  and  profession,  and 
that  which  every  man  ought  to  be  completely  master  of,  I 
mean,  of  his  duty,  and  means  of  happiness,  are  absolute- 
ly to  be  made  sure  of.  And  this  will  not  leave  to  any, 
but  people  of  leisure  and  fortune,  an  opportunity  of  ex- 
p  Ltiating  at  large  in  pursuit  of  science.  No  man  can 
hope  to  excel  in  a  variety  of  ways.  Few  are  able  to  ex- 
cel in  one  single  branch  of  knowledge.  And  by  taking  in 
too  large  a  scope,  it  is  no  wonder  that  men  can  go  but 
inconsiderable  lengths  in  all,  and  accordingly  become  mere 
smatterers  in  every  thing,  knowing  in  nothing. 

To  avoid  this  error,  the  rule  is  easy.  Be  sure  that  you 
understand  one  thing,  before  you  proceed  to  another: 
And  take  care  that  you  allow  for  forgetfulness.  What 
you  understand  pretty  well  now,  a  few  years  hence 
(if  you  drop  that  study)  will  not  stand  so  clear  in  your 
mincl  as  at  present.  What  apprehension  can  you  there- 
fore expect  to  have,  at  some  distance  of  time  hence,  of 
what  you  do  not  now  clearly  understand.  The  view  in  edu- 
cation is  very  different  from  that  of  study  in- mature  life. 
In  education,  the  business  is  to  open  the  mind  to  receive 
the  first  principles  of  various  knowledge,  to  furnish  it  with 
the  instrumental  sciences,  to  habituate  it  to  application, 
and  accustom  it  to  exert  itself  with  ease  upon  all  kinds  of 
researches,  rather  than  to  carry  any  one  branch  of  knowledge 
to  perfection,  which  is  not  indeed  practicable  at  an  imma- 
ture age.  The  intention,  on  the  contrary,  in  the  study  of 
the  more  maul}'  parts  of  science,  in  adult  age,  is  to  furnish 
the  mind  with  a  comprehensive  and  distinct  know  ledge  of 
whatever  may  be  useful  or  ornamental  to  the  understand- 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  203 

ing.  Therefore  it  is  plain,  quite  different  schemes  areto 
be  pursued  in  study  at  those  two  different  periods  of  life. 
This  necessary  distinction  is  very  little  attended  to.  Ac- 
cordingly the  idea,  which  many  educators  of  youth  seem 
to  have  formed  of  their  province,  is,  plunging  a  raw  boy  to  a 
much  greater  depth  in  languages,  than  he  will  ever,  at  any 
period  of  life,  be  the  better  for,  and  neglecting  the  necessary 
work  of  laving  an  early  foundation  of  general  improve- 
ment. And  on  the  other  hand,  the  notion  formed  by 
many  grown  persons,  of  learning,  is  only  the  reading  an 
infinite  number  of  books  ;  so  that  they  may  have  it  to  say, 
they  have  read  them,  though  they  are  nothing  the  wiser  for  it. 

As  some  readers  are  for  grasping  at  all  science,  so 
others  confine  their  researches  to  one  single  article.  Yet 
it  is  certain,  that  to  excel  in  any  single  art  or  science,  being 
wholly  ignorant  of  all  others,  is  not  the  complete  improve- 
ment of  the  mind.  Besides,  some  of  the  different  parts 
of  knowledge  are  so  connected  together,  and  so  necessary 
to  one  another,  that  they  cannot  be  separated.  In  order 
to  a  thorough  understanding  of  morality,  and  religion 
(a  study  which  might  the  best  pretend  to  exclude  all 
others,  as  being  of  infinitely  greater  consequence  than  all 
others)  several  collateral  helps  are  necessary,  as  languages, 
history,  and  natural  philosophy. 

There  is  no  part  of  knowledge,  that  has  been  singly  set 
up  for  the  whole  improvement  of  the  mind  so  much  as 
classical  learning.  Time  was  when  Latin,  Greek,  and 
Logic  were  the  whole  of  education,  and  they  are  by  some 
few  narrow  minds,  which  have  had  little  culture  of  any 
other  kind,  thought  so  still.  But  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that 
people  will  at  last  be  wise  enough  to  see,  that,  in  order  to 
the  full  improvement  of  the  mind,  it  is  not  sufficient  that 
one  enter  the  porch  of  knowledge,  but  that  he  proceed 
from  the  study  of  words  to  that  of  things. 

The  pursuit  of  too  many  different  and  inconsistent  stud- 
ies at  once  is  very  prejudicial  to  thorough  improvement. 
The  human  mind  is  so  formed,  that,  without  distinction, 
method,  and  order,  nothing  can  be  clearly  apprehended  by 
it.  Many  readers  take  a  delight  in  heaping  up  in  their 
minds  a  cumbrous  mass  of  mere  unconnected  truths,  as 
if  a  man  should  get  together  a  quantity  of  stones,  bricks, 
mortar,  timbers,  boards,  and  other  materials,  without  any 


204  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

design  of  ever  putting  them  together  into  a  regular  build- 
ing. 

Some  read  by  fits  and  starts,  and,  leaving  off  in  the 
middle  of  a  particular  study  or  inquiry,  lose  all  the  labour 
they  had  bestowed,  and  never  pursuing  any  one  subject 
to  a  period,  have  their  head  filled  only  with  incoherent 
bits  and  scraps. 

To  prevent  a  turn  to  rambling  and  sauntering,  without 
being  able  to  collect  your  thoughts,  or  fix  them  on  any 
one  subject,  the  studies  of  arithmetic,  mathematics,  and 
logic,  in  youth,  ought  to  have  been  pursued.  But,  if  you 
have  missed  of  that  advantage,  you  may  constrain  yourself 
at  times  to  study  hard  for  some  hours,  with  a  fixed  reso- 
lution, upon  no  account  whatever  to  give  over,  till  the 
time  is  out.  By  this  means  you  will  come  at  length  to  be 
able  to  bear  the  fatigue  of  close  application.  But  after 
forty  years  of  age,  never  think  of  going  on  with  study, 
when  it  goes  against  the  grain  ;  nature  at  that  time  of  life, 
will  not  be  thwarted. 

With  some  men,  study  is  mere  inquiry,  no  matter 
about  what.  And  a  discovery  is  to  them  the  same,  whether 
it  be  of  an  important  truth,  or  of  somewhat  merely  curious, 
or  perhaps  not  even  entertaining  to  any  but  such  dull  im- 
aginations as  their  own.  Such  readers  resemble  that  spe- 
cies of  people,  which  the  Spectator  distinguishes  by  the 
title  of  Quidnwws,  who  pass  their  lives  in  inquiring  after 
news,  with  no  view  to  any  thing,  but  merely  hearing 
somewhat  new. 

Were  the  works  of  the  learned  to  be  retrenched  of  all 
their  superfluities  and  specious  trifling,  learning  would 
soon  be  reduced  into  a  much  narrower  compass.  The 
voluminous  verbal  critics,  laborious  commentators,  po- 
lemical writers,  whose  works  have,  for  several  centuries, 
made  the  presses  groan,  would  then  shrink  into  sixpenny 
pamphlets,  and  pocket  volumes. 

Such  a  degree  of  laziness  as  will  not  allow  one  to  in- 
quire carefuliy  into  the  sense  of  an  author  ;  impatience, 
inattention,  rambling,  are  dispositions  in  a  reader,  which 
effectually  prevent  his  improvement,  even  though  he 
should  upon  the  whole  spend  as  much  time  over  his  books, 
as  another,  who  shall  actually  become  extensively  learned. 
Some  consider  reading  as  a  mere  amusement,  so  that, 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  205 

to  them,  the  most  diverting  book  is  the  best.  Such  read- 
ers having  no  view  to  the  cultivation  of  their  understand- 
ing, there  is  no  need  to  offer  them  any  directions  for  the 
conduct  of  study.  The  very  great  number  of  novels  and 
tales,  which  are  continually  publishing,  encourage  in  peo- 
ple a  trifling  and  idle  turn  of  mind,  for  which  the  present 
age  is  eminently  remarkable,  which  makes  any  direct  ad- 
dress to  their  understandings  unacceptable  ;  and  nothing 
can  please  or  gain  their  attention,  that  is  not  seasoned  with 
some  amusement,  set  off  in  some  quaint  or  artificial  man- 
ner, or  does  not  serve  to  execute  some  silly  passion. 

There  is  nothing  more  difficult,  than  to  come  at  a  right 
judgment  of  our  own  abilities.  It  is  commonly  observed, 
that  ignorant  people  are  often  extremely  conceited  of  their 
own  fancied  knowledge.  An  ignorant  person,  having  no 
manner  of  notion  of  the  vast  extensiveness  of  science,  con- 
cludes he  has  mastered  the  whole,  because  he  knows  not, 
that  there  is  any  thing  to  be  learned  beyond  the  little  he 
has  learned.  But  it  will  take  many  years  study  only  to 
know  how  much  there  is  to  be  studied  and  inquired  into, 
and  to  go  through  what  is  already  known ;  and  the  most 
learned,  best  know,  how  much  beyond  all  that  is  known, 
is  quite  out  of  reach  of  human  sagacity.  There  is  indeed 
an  infinity  of  things,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word,  of 
which  we  cannot  even  know  our  own  ignorance,  not  being 
at  all  within  the  reach  of  our  ideas  in  our  present  state. 

That  a  young  person  may  not  run  into  the  egregious, 
though  common  error,  at  the  time  of  life,  of  fancying 
himself  the  most  knowing  person  in  the  world,  before  he 
lias  gone  half  way  through  the  first  principles,  or  rudi- 
ments of  knowledge,  let  him  converse  with  a  person  emi- 
nent in  each  branch  of  science,  and  learn  from  him  what 
labour  he  must  bestow,  what  books  he  must  read,  what 
experiments  he  must  try,  what  calculations  he  must  go 
through,  what  controversies  he  must  examine,  what  er- 
rors he  must  avoid,  what  collections  he  must  make,  what 
analogical  reasonings  he  must  pursue,  what  close  resem- 
blance in  subjects  he  must  distinguish  from  one  another, 
and  so  forth.  And  after  he  has  gone  through  all  that  an  able 
master  in  each  science  has  prescribed,  and  has  learned  all 
that  is  to  be  learned,  and  seen  that  all  our  learning  is  but  ig- 
norance, then  let  him  be  proud  of  his  knowledge,  if  he  can. 


206  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

;  The  universal  smatterer  knows  nothing  to  the  bottom. 
The  man  of  owe  science,  on  the  contrary,  makes  that  every 
thing,  solves  all  difficulties  by  it,  resolves  all  things  into 
it ;  like  the  musician  and  dancing  master  in  Moherc  who 
labour  to  prove,  that  the  welfare  of  states,  and  happiness 
of  the  world,  depend  wholly  on  the  cultivation  of  those 
two  elegancies. 

Some  men  seem  to  have  minds  too  narrow  to  apprehend 
any  subject  without  first  cramping  and  hampering  it. 
Nothing  great  or  generous  can  mid  room  in  their  souls. 
They  view  things  bit  by  bit,  as  one  who  looks  through  a 
miscroscope.  A  man  of  such  a  character  may  know  some 
subjects  more  minutely  than  one  who  is  universally  al- 
lowed to  be  a  great  man,  and  vet  such  a  one  must  be  "ack- 
nowledged to  be  a  person  of  very  mean  accomplish- 
ments. For  it  is  not  having  a  heap  of  unanimated  knowl- 
edge in  one's  head,  but  having  the  command  of  it,  and 
being  capable  of  applying  and  exerting  it  in  a  masterly 
manner,  that  denominates  a  truly  great  and  highly  accom- 
plished mind. 

Men's  natural  tempers  have  a  very  great  influence  over 
their  way  of  thinking.  Sanguine  people,  for  example,  see 
every  thing  very  suddenly,  and  often  very  clearly  in  one 
light.  But  they  do  not  always  take  time'to  view  a  com- 
plex subject  on  all  sides,  and  in  every  light ;  without 
which,  it  is  impossible  to  determine  any  thing  about  it 
with  certainty.  These  tempers,  when  joined  with  weak 
judgments,  make  wild  work  in  matters  of  inquiry  and 
teaming.  For  through  haste  and  eagerness,  they  lay  false 
foundations,  or  raise  superstructures  upon  nothing.  San- 
guine  tempers,  however;  are  generally  found  to  be  the  fit- 
test for  action,  and  without  a  considerable  degree  of  zeal 
and  warmth,  men  seldom  carry  any  great  design  into  exe- 
cution. 

Men  of  cold  saturnine  tempers  are  generally  slow  and 
laborious  in  their  researches,  doubtful  and  undetermined 
in  their  opinions,  and  awkward  at  applying  their  discove- 
ries and  observations  for  the  general  advantage  of  knowl- 
edge, and  of  mankind.  But  if  the  miner  did  not  dig  up 
the  ore,  the  curious  artist  could  not  fashion  the  metal  into 
utensils  and  instruments  necessary  in  life.  The  laborious 
searcher  after  knowledge  is  necessary  to  the  man  of  genius. 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  207 

For  it  is  from  him  that  he  has  the  materials  he  works  up- 
on,  which  he  would  not  himself  bestow  the  drudgery  of 
searching  after.  For  a  laborious  turn  is  very  rarely  found 
to  accompany  brightness  of  genius. 

Some  people's  reading  never  goes  beyond  the  bulk  of 
a  pamphlet,  who  do  not  for  all  that  quit  their  pretensions 
to  disputing  and,arguing.  But  conversation  alone  does  not 
go  deep  enough  to  lay  a  solid  foundation  of  knowledge  ; 
nor  does  reading  alone  fully  answer  the  purpose  of  digest- 
ing and  rendering  our  knowledge  useful.  Reading  is 
necessary  to  get  at  the  fundamental  principles  of  a  science. 
And  the  careful  perusal  of  a  few  capital  books  is  sufficient 
for  this  purpose.  Afterwards  to  talk  over  the  subject 
with  a  set  of  intelligent  men,  is  the  best  method  for  ex- 
tending one's  views  of  it.  For  in  an  evening's  conver- 
sation, you  may  learn  the  substance  of  what  each  of  your 
friends  has  spent  many  months  in  studying. 

If  vou  can  find  one  or  more  ingenious,  learned,  and  com- 
municative friends,  with  whom  to  converse  upon  curious 
and  useful  subjects,  to  hear  their  opinions,  and  ask  the 
advice,  especially  of  those  who  are  advanced  in  life,  and, 
having  been  at  the  seat  of  the  muses,  are  qualified  to  di- 
rect you  the  shortest  way  thither ;  if  you  can  find  in  the 
place  where  you  live,  such  a  set  of  friends,  with  whom  to 
converse  freely  and  without  the  trammels  of  systematic 
or  academic  rules,  you  will  find  more  improvement,  in  a 
short  time,  from  such  society,  than  from  twenty  years 
solitary  study. 

Some  choose  only  to  read  on  what  they  call  the  ortho- 
dox side,  that  is,  books  in  defence  of  those  opinions 
which  the  bulk  of  people  receive  without  examining. 
They  conclude,  a  great  number  of  people  cannot  be  in 
the  wrong.  Others  take  for  granted,  that  whatever  is 
generally  received,  must  be  wrong.  Such  readers  are 
sure  to  peruse  whatever  comes  out  against  articles,  or 
creeds,  or  religion  in  general.  But  they  do  not  take  the 
pains  to  give  the  defenders  of  them  the  hearing.  And 
yet  there  is  no  doubt,  but  prejudice  is  equally  wrong  on 
either  side ;  and  in  our  times,  there  are  almost  as  many 
prejudiced  against,  as  in  favour  of,  formerly  received 
opinions.  There  is  nothing  commendable  in  believing 
what  is  true,  unless  that  belief  be  the  effect  of  examina- 


208  OF  KNOWLEDGE 

tion.     Nor  is  there  any  merit  in  opposing  error,  if  sueh 
opposition  is  accidental,  and  the  effect  of  prejudice. 

In  establishing  a  set  of  principles,  most  people  let 
themselves  be  biassed  by  prejudice,  passion,  education, 
spiritual  guides,  common  opinion,  supposed  orthodoxy, 
or  almost  any  thing.  And  after  having  been  habituated 
to  a  particular  way  of  thinking  which  the,y  took  up  with- 
out examination,  they  can  no  more  quit  it,  than  they  can 
change  the  features  of  their  faces,  or  the  make  of  their 
persons.  To  come  at  truth,  one  ought  to  begin  with 
throwing  out  of  his  mind  every  attachment  to  either  side, 
and  bring  himself  to  an  absolute  indifference  which  is 
true,  or  which  false.  He  who  wishes  an  opinion  to  be 
true,  is  in  danger  of  being  misled  into  the  belief  of  it  upon 
insufficient  grounds  ;  and  he  who  wishes  it  to  be  false,  is 
likely  to  reject  it  in  spite  of  sufficient  evidence  for  its  truth. 
To  observe  some  men  studying,  reading,  arguing,  and 
writing  wholly  on  one  side,  without  giving  the  other  a  fair 
hearing,  making  learning  a  party  affair,  and  stirring  up 
faction  against  truth,  one  would  imagine,  their  minds 
were  not  made  like  those  of  most  rational  beings,  of  which 
truth  is  the  proper  object ;  but  that  it  gave  them  a  pleasure 
to  be  deceived. 

Though  it  is  the  business  and  the  very  character  of  a 
wise  man,  to  examine  both  sides,  to  hear  different  opin- 
ions, and  search  for  truth  even  among  the  rubbish  of  er- 
ror ;  yet  there  are  numberless  books,  which  I  cannot  think 
the  shortness  and  uncertainty  of  life,  that  leaves  no  room 
for  tedious  trifling,  will  admit  of  examining  with  the  care 
that  must  be  bestowed  in  trying  to  find  out  the  author's 
meaning,  and  to  learn  somewhat  from  him.  As  some 
writers,  so  to  speak,  never  go  deep  enough  to  draw  blood 
of  a  subject;  so  others  refine  and  subtilize  away  all  that 
the  understanding  can  lay  hold  of.  The  logicians  and  meta- 
physicians, with  their  substantial  forms,  and  intentional 
species;  the  Malebranches  and  Behmens\  What  fruit 
there  is  to  be  got  from  reading  such  writers,  is  to  me,  in- 
conceivable, For  the  fate  of  all  such  refinements  is,  to 
be  found  partly  unintelligible,  partly  absurd,  and  partly 
of  no  manner  of  consequence  toward  the  discovery  of  any 
lew  truth. 

Some  men  have  the  misfortune  of  an  awkard,  and  as 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  209 

it  were  a  left-handed  way  of  thinking  and  apprehending 
things.  A  great  thought  in  such  minds  is  not  a  great 
thought.  For  what  is  in  itself  clear  and  distinct,  to  such 
men  appears  dim  and  confused.  Those  gentlemen  are 
mightily  given  to  finding  difficulties  in  the  clearest  points, 
and  are  great  collectors  of  arguments  pro  and  con.  But 
their  labours  have  no  tendency  to  give  either  themselves 
or  others  satisfaction  in  any  one  subject  of  inquiry.  It 
seems  to  be  their  delight  to  darken,  rather  than  enlighten. 

Want  of  education,  or  of  so  much  culture  as  is  neces- 
sary for  habituating  the  mind  to  wield  its  faculties,  is  the 
same  sort  of  disadvantage,  for  finding  out  and  commu- 
nicating intricate  truth,  as  a  raw  recruit's  never  having 
learned  the  military  exercise,  is  for  his  performing  the 
movements  properly  in  a  review  or  a  battle.  It  is  there- 
fore matter  of  compassion  to  see  silly  people,  without  the 
least  improvement  by  education,  without  the  advantage 
even  of  first  principles,  striking  slap-dash  at  points  of  .^ci* 
ence,  of  which  they  do  not  so  much  as  understand  what 
it  is  they  would  affirm  or  deny  ;  disputing  and  confuting 
against  those,  who  have  spent  their  lives  in  a  particular 
study;  pretending,  perhaps  the  first  moment  they  ever 
thought  of  a  subject,  to  see  through  the  whole  of  it ;  taking 
upon  them  to  make  use  of  arguments,  a  sort  of  tools, 
which  they  have  no  more  command  of  than  I  should  of 
the  helm  of  a  ship,  in  a  tempest.  The  shortest  way-  of 
finishing  a  dispute  with  people,  who  will  be  meddling  with 
what  you  know  to  be  out  of  their  depth,  is  to  tell  them, 
what  reading  and  study  you  have  bestowed  upon  it,  and 
that  still  you  do  not  think  yourself  sufficiently  master  of 
the  subject.  If  your  antagonist  has  any  modesty,  he  must 
be  sensible,  that  it  is  arrogance  in  him  to  pretend,  with- 
out all  the  necessary  advantages,  to  understand  a  subject 
better  than  one,  who  has  had  them. 

Men  of  business,  and  men  of  pleasure,  even  if  they 
have  had  their  minds  in  their  youth  opened  by  education, 
and  put  in  the  way  of  acquiring  knowledge,  are  generally 
found  afterwards  to  lose  the  habit  of  close  thinking  and 
reasoning.  But  no  one  is  less  capable  of  searching  into, 
or  communicating  truth,  than  he  who  has  bten  from  his 
earliest  youth  brought  up,  as  most  of  the  great  are,  in 
pleasure  and  folly. 

2  D 


-210  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

There  is  no  single  obstacle,  which  stands  in  the  way  of 
more  people  in  the  search  of  truth,  than  pride.  They 
have  once  declared  themselves  of  a  particular  opinion  ;  and 
they  cannot  bring  dumselves  to  think  they  could  possibly 
be  in  the  wrong.  Consequently  they  cannot  persuade 
themselves  of  the  necessity  of  re-examining  the  foundations 
of  their  opinions.  To  acknowledge,  and  give  up  their 
error,  would  be  a  still  severer  trial.  But  the  truth  is,  there 
is  more  greatness  of  mind  in  candidly  giving  up  a  mistake, 
than  would  have  appeared  in  escaping  it  at  first,  if  not  a 
very  shameful  one.  The  surest  way  of  avoiding  error,  is, 
careful  examination.  The  best  way  of  leaving  room  for 
a  change  of  opinion,  which  should  always  be  provided  for, 
is  to  be  modest  in  delivering  one's  sentiments.  A  man 
may,  without  confusion,  give  up  an  opinion,  which  he 
declared  without  arrogance. 

The  case  of  those,  whose  secular  interests  have  engaged 
them  to  declare  themselves  of  a  certain  party  ;  where  con- 
science is  not  allowed  to  speak  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
on  the  side  of  candid  and  diligent  examination,  is  the  most 
remediless  of  any.  Those  men  have  nothing  for  it  but  to 
find  out  plausible  arguments  for  their  pre-established  opin- 
ions, find  themselves  obliged  not  to  examine  whether  their 
notions  be  true;  but  to  contrive  ways  and  means  to  make 
them  true  in  spite  of  truth  itself.  If  they  happen  to  be  in 
the  right,  so  much  the  better  for  them.  If  in  an  error, 
having  set  out  with  their  backs  upon  truth,  the  longer 
they  travel,  the  farther  they  are  from  it;  the  more  they 
study,  the  more  they  are  deceived. 

There  are  some  men  of  no  settled  way  of  thinking  at 
all ;  but  change  opinions  with  every  pamphlet  they  read. 
To  get  rid  of  this  unmanly  fickleness,  the  way  is,  to  labour 
to  furnish  the  mind  early  with  a  set  of  rational  well  ground- 
ed principles,  which  will,  generally  speaking,  lead  to  rea- 
sonable consequences.  Take  for  an  example  the  follow- 
ing one  among  many.  "The  only  end  of  a  true  religion 
"  must  be  to  perfect  the  human  nature,  and  lead  mankind 
to  happiness."  The  reader  must  perceive  at  once,  that 
such  a  fundamental  principle  will  serve  to  discover  and 
expose  almost  all  the  errors  and  absurdities  of  false  reli- 
gions, and  those  which  may  be  introduced  into  the  true. 
And  so  of  other  general  principles* 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  211 

Artful  declamations  have  often  fatal  effects  in  misleading 
weak  readers  from  the  truth.  A  talent  at  oratory  is  there- 
fore a  very  mischievous  weapon  in  the  hands  of  an  ill-dis- 
posed man.  It  is  the  wisdom  of  a  reader,  when  he  has 
productions  of  genius  put  into  his  hands,  to  examine  all 
the  peculiar  notions  he  finds  in  such  writings,  stripping 
them  of  their  ornaments  to  the  bare  thought ;  which,  if 
it  will  stand  the  test  of  cool  reason,  is  to  be  received  ;  if 
not,  the  style  it  is  clothed  in  ought  to  gain  it  no  favour ; 
but  it  ought  to  be  rejected  with  indignation.  Wit,  hu- 
mour, and  raillery,  have  done  infinite  mischief  among 
superficial  readers.  Of  which  talents  some  authors  have 
such  a  command,  as  to  be  capable  of  working  up  unthink- 
ing and  unprincipled  people  to  believe  or  practice  whatever 
they  please. 

Strive  to  understand  thinsrs  as  thev  are  in  themselves. 
Do  not  think  of  conceiving  of  them  otherwise  than  accord- 
ing to  their  real  natures.  Do  not  labour  to  explain  reli- 
gion by  chemistry,  to  reduce  morals  to  mathematical  cer- 
tainty, or  to  think  of  eternal  rectitude  as  an  arbitrary  or 
factitious  constitution.  The  nature  of  things  will  not  be 
forced.  Bring  your  understanding  to  them.  Do  not 
think  of  reducing  them  to  your  hypothesis  ;  unless  you  be 
indifferent  about  true  knowledge,  and  mean  only  to  amuse 
yourself  with  a  jeu  cV esprit. 

In  reading,  labour  to  get  into  the  full  sense  of  the  au- 
thor's principal  terms,  and  the  truths  affirmed  in  his  pro- 
positions. After  that,  observe  whether  he  proves,  or 
only  affirms  roundly ;  whether  what  he  says  is  built  on 
fancy,  or  on  truth,  and  the  nature  of  things.  And  do  not 
pretend  to  believe  him  one  hair's  breadth  beyond  what  you 
understand  :  you  cannot  if  you  would. 

In  conversation,  or  writing,  if  you  mean  to  give  or 
receive  information,  accurately  define  your  terms.  Keep 
to  the  original  sense  you  affixed  to  them.  Use  no  tautology. 
Think  in  time  what  objections  may  be  made  to  what  you 
are  going  to  urge.  Let  truth  be  your  sole  view.  Des- 
pise the  pleasure  of  conquering  your  antagonist.  Pro- 
nounce modestly,  so  as  to  leave  room  for  a  retreat.  Keep 
y  ourself  superior  to  passion  and  peevishness.  Yield  what- 
ever you  can,  that  your  antagonist  may  see  you  do  not 
dispute  for  contention's  sake.     When  you  have  argued 


212  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

the  matter  fully,  and  neither  can  bring  over  the  other, 
drop  the  subject  amicably,  mutually  agreeing  to  differ. 

If  you  would  thoroughly  re-examine  a  subject  of  import- 
ance, fancy  it  to  be  quite  new  to  you  before  you  begin  to  in- 
quire into  it.  Throw  out  of  your  mind  all  your  former  no- 
tions of  it;  and  put  yourself  in  the  place  of  an  honest  Indian, 
to  whom  a  missionary  is  explaining  the  christian  religion. 
Take  every  single  thought  to  pieces,  and  reduce  even- 
complex  idea  to  its  simples.  Get  into  the  author's  precise 
sense  in  every  general  term  he  uses.  Strip  his  thoughts 
bare  of  all  flourishes.  Turn  ever  single  point,  in  everv 
complicated  subject,  all  the  ways  it  is  capable  of.  View 
ever  minute  circumstance  that  may  have  any  weight,  not 
in  one,  but  in  all  lights.  Throw  out  of  your  mind  every 
desire  or  wish,  that  may  bias  you  either  for  or  against  the 
proposition.  Shake  off  every  prejudice,  whether  in  favour 
of  or  against  the  author.  Let  the  merit  of  every  single 
argument  be  duly  weighed ;  and  do  not  let  yourself  be  too 
strongly  influenced  by  one  you  understand  fully,  against 
another,  which  you  do  not  so  clearly  see  through ;  or  by 
one  you  are  familiar  with,  against  one  that  may  be  new  to 
you,  or  not  to  your  humour.  The  weight  is  of  more  con- 
sequence than  the  number  of  argument.  Labour  above 
all  things  to  acquire  a  clear  methodical,  and  accurate  man- 
ner of  thinking,  speaking,  -or  writing.  Without  this, 
study  is  but  fruitless  fatigue,  and  learning  useless  lumber. 

Do  not  form  very  high  or  very  mean  notions  of  persons 
or  things,  where  a  great  deal  is  to  be  said  on  both  sides. 
Whatever  is  of  a  mixed  nature  ought  to  be  treated  as  such. 
Judging  of  truth  in  the  lump  will  make  wild  work.  If  an 
author  pleases  you  in  one  place,  do  not  therefore  give 
yourself  up  implicitly  to  him.  If  he  blunders  in  one  place, 
do  not  therefore  conclude  that  his  whole  book  is  nonsence. 
Especially  if  he  writes  well  in  general,  do  not  imagine, 
from  one  difficult  passage,  which  you  cannot  reconcile 
with  the  rest,  that  he  meant  to  contradict  his  whole  book  ; 
but  rather  conclude  that  you  misunderstand  him.  Per- 
haps mathematics  is  the  only  science  on  which  any  author 
has,  or  can  write,  without  falling  into  mistakes. 

Take  care  cf  false  associations.  Error  may  be  ancient; 
truth  of  late  discovery.  The  many  may  go  wrong,  white 
the  few  are  in  the  right.     Learning  does  not  always  imply 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  213 

j  udgment  in  an  author,  or  soundness  in  his  opinions.  Nor 
is  all  vulgar  error  that  is  believed  by  the  vulgar.  Truth 
stands  independent  of  all  external  things.  In  all  your 
researches,  let  that  be  your  object. 

Take  care  of  being  misled  by  words  of  no  meaning,  of 
double  meaning,  or  of  uncertain  signification.  Regard 
always  in  an  author  the  matter  more  than  the  style.  It  is 
the  thought  that  must  improve  your  mind.  The  lan- 
guage can  only  please  }our  ear.  If  you  are  yourself  to 
write  or  to  preach,  you  will  do  more  with  mankind  by  a 
fine  style  than  deep  thought.  All  men  have  ears  and  pas- 
sions ;  few  strong  understandings  to  work  upon. 

If  you  give  yourself  up  to  a  fantastical,  overheated, 
gloomy,  or  superstitious  imagination,  you  may  bid  fare- 
well to  reason  and  judgment.  Fancy  is  to  be  corrected, 
moderated,  restrained,  watched,  and  suspected,  not  in- 
dulged and  let  loose.  Keep  down  every  passion,  and  in 
general,  every  motion  of  the  mind,  except  cool  judgment 
and  reflection,  if  you  really  mean  to  find  out  truth.  What 
matter  whether  an  opinion  be  yours,  or  your  mortal  ene- 
my's ?  If  it  be  true,  embrace  it  without  prejudice  ;  if  false, 
reject  it  without  mercy  :  truth  has  nothing  to  do  with  your 
self-love,  or  your  quarrels. 

The  credulous  man  believes  without  sufficient  evi 
dence.  The  obstinate  doubts  without  reason.  The  san- 
guine is  convinced  at  once.  The  plegmatic  withholds  his 
assent  long.  The  learned  has  his  hypothesis.  The  illit- 
erate his  prejudice.  The  proud  is  above  being  convinced. 
The  fickle  is  not  of  the  same  opinion  two  days  togeth- 
er. Young  people  determine  quickly.  The  old  delib- 
erate long.  The  dogmatist  affirms  as  if  he  went  upon 
mathematical  demonstration.  The  sceptic  doubts  his  own 
faculties,  when  they  tell  him  that  twice  two  are  four. 
Some  will  believe  nothing  in  religion  that  they  cannot 
fully  understand.  Others  will  believe  nothing  to  a 
point  of  doctrine,  though  the  bare  proposition  be  ever 
so  clear,  if  it  be  possible  to  start  any  difficulty  about  the 
modes  of  it.  Fashion,  the  only  rule  of  life  among  many, 
especially  almost  universally  in  the  higher  ranks,  has  even 
a  considerable  influence  in  opinion,  in  taste,  in  reading, 
and  in  the  methods  of  improving  the  mind.  It  runs 
through  politics,  divinity,  and  all  but  the  mathematical  sci- 


214  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

ences.  And  there  are  a  set  of  people  at  this  day  weak 
enough  to  think  of  making  even  them  yield  to  it,  and  of 
new  modelling  and  taking  to  pieces  a  system  of  philoso- 
phy founded  in  demonstration. 

Parents  may  have  misled  us  ;  teachers  may  have  mis- 
informed us;  spiritual  guides  in  many  countries  do  notori- 
ously mislead  the  people,  and  in  all  are  fallible.  The 
ancient  philosophers  differed  among  themselves  in  funda- 
mentals. The  Fathers  of  the  church  contradict  one  anoth- 
er, and  often  contradict  both  scripture  and  reason.  Popes 
and  councils  have  decreed  against  one  another.  We  know 
our  ancestors  to  have  been  in  the  wrong  in  innumerable 
instances  :  and  they  had  the  better  of  us  in  some.  Kings 
repeal  the  edicts  of  their  predecessors;  anel  parliaments  ab- 
rogate acts  of  former  parliaments.  Good  men  may  be 
mistaken.  Bad  men  will  not  stick  to  deceive  us.  Here 
is  therefore  no  manner  of  foundation  for  implicit  belief. 
If  we  mean  to  come  at  truth,  there  is  but  one  way  for  it ; 
to  attend  to  the  cool  and  unprejudiced  dictates  of  reason, 
that  heaven-born  director  within  us,  which  will  never 
mislead  us  in  any  affair  of  consequence  to  us,  unless  Ave 
neglect  to  use  its  assistance,  or  give  ourselves  up  to  the 
government  of  our  passions  or  prejudices.  More  especially 
we  of  this  age  and  nation,  who  have  the  additional  ad- 
vantage of  divine  revelation,  which  also  convinces  us  of 
its  authority  by  reason,  should  be  peculiarly  unjustifiable 
in  quitting  those  sacred  guides,  to  whose  conduct  heaven 
itself  has  entrusted  us,  and  of  which  the  universal  free- 
dom of  the  present  happy  times  allows  us  the  use  without 
restraint,  and  giving  ourselves  up  to  be  led  blindfold  by 
any  other.  And,  besides  reason  and  revelation,  there  is  no 
person  or  thing  in  the  universe,  that  ought  to  have  the 
least  influence  over   us  in  our  search  after  truth. 

All  the  operations  of  the  mind  become  easy  by  habit. 
It  will  be  of  great  use  to  habituate  yourself  to  examine, 
reflect,  compare,  and  view,  in  every  light,  all  kinds  of  sub- 
jects. Mathematics  in  youth,  rational  logic,  such  as  Mr. 
Lockers,  and  conversation  with  men  of  clear  heads,  will  be 
of  great  advantage  to  accustom  you  to  readiness  and  just- 
ness in  reasoning.  But  carefully  avoid  disputing  for  dis- 
puting's  sake.  Keep  on  improving  and  enlarging  your 
views  in  a  variety  of  ways.    One  part  of  knowledge  is  con- 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  215 

uected  with,  and  will  throw  a  light  upon  another.  Re- 
view from  time  to  time  your  former  inquiries,  especially  in 
important  subjects.  Try  whether  you  have  not  let  your- 
self be  imposed  upon  by  some  fallacy.  And  if  you  find 
so,  though  you  have  published  your  opinion  through  all 
Europe,  make  not  the  least  hesitation  to  own  your  mistake, 
and  retract  it. — Truth  is  above  all  other  regards.  And 
it  is  infinitely  worse  to  continue  obstinately  in  a  mistake, 
and  be  the  cause  of  error  in  others'  than  to  be  thought  fal- 
lible, or,  in  other  words,  to  be  thought  a  mortal  man.  In 
examining  into  truth,  keep  but  one  single  point  in  view  at 
a  time  ;  and  when  you  have  searched  it  to  the  bottom,  pass 
on  to  another,  and  so  on,  till  you  have  gone  through  all, 
and  viewed  every  one  in  every  different  light.  At  last,  sum 
up  the  collective  evidence  on  both  sides.  Balance  them 
against  one  another,  and  give  your  assent  accordingly,  pro- 
portioning your  certainty  or  persuasion  to  the  amount  of 
the  clear  and  unquestionable  evidences  upon  the  whole. 

In  reasoning  there  is  more  probability  of  convincing 
by  two  or  three  solid  arguments  closely  put,  than  by  as 
many  dozen  inclusive  ones,  ill  digested,  and  improperly 
ranged.  I  know  of  no  way  of  reasoning  equal  to  the  So- 
cratic,  by  which  you  convince  your  antagonist  out  of  his 
©wn  mouth.  I  could  name  several  eminent  writers,  who 
have  so  laboured  to  establish  their  opinions  by  a  multi- 
plicity of  arguments,  that,  by  means  of  over-proving,  they 
have  rendered  those  doctrines  doubtful,  which,  with  a 
third  part  of  the  reasoning  bestowed  by  them,  would  have 
appeared  unquestionable. 

Of  all  disputants,  those  learned  controversial  writers  are 
the  most  whimsical,  who  have  the  talents  of  working  them- 
'  selves  up  in  their  closets  into  such  a  passion,  as  to  call 
their  antagonist's  names  in  black  and  white  ;  to  use  railing 
instead  of  reasoning,  and  palm  off  the  public  with  rogue, 
rascal,  clog,  and  blockhead,  for  solid  confutations,  as  if 
the  academy,  at  which  they  had  studied,  had  been  that  of 
Billingsgate. 

If  one  thinks  he  is  in  the  right,  it  can  be  no  great  mat- 
ter with  how  much  modesty  and  temper  he  defends  truth, 
so  he  does  not  give  it  up.  And  if  he  should  be  found  af- 
terwards to  have  been  in  the  wrong,  which  in  most  dis- 
putable points  is  always  to  be  apprehended,  his  modest 


216  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

defence  of  his  opinion  will  gain  him,  with  all  reasonable 
people,  apurdon  for  his  mistake.  There  are  so  many  sides, 
on  which  most  subjects  may  be  viewed,  and  so  many  con- 
siderations to  be  taken  in,  that  a  wise  man  will  always  ex- 
press himself  modestly  even  on  those  subjects  which  he 
has  thoroughly  studied.  Nor  can  there  be  any  danger, 
but  contrariwise  great  advantage,  in  hearing  the  opinion 
of  others,  if  one  converses  with  men  of  judgment  and 
probity ;  and  those  of  contrary  characters  are  not  fit  for 
conversation. 

It  is  remarkable,  and  quite  contrary  to  what  one  would 
expect,  that  young  people  are  more  positive  in  affirming, 
and  more  given  to  dispute,  than  the  aged  and  experienced. 
One  would  think  it  should  be  natural  for  youth  to  be  dif- 
fident of  itself,  and  inclinable  to  submit  to  the  judgment 
of  those  who  have  had  unquestionably  superior  advantages 
for  information.  But  we  find  on  the  contrary,  that  a  young 
person  viewing  a  subject  only  from  one  side,  and  seeing 
it  in  a  very  strong  and  lively  manner,  is,  from  the  sanguine 
temper  natural  to  that  time  of  life,  led  to  dispute,  affirm, 
and  deny,  with  great  obstinacy  and  arrogance.  This  is  one 
of  the  most  disagreeable  andtroublesome  qualities  of  youth, 
otherwise  so  amiable  and  engaging.  It  is  the  business  and 
effect  of  prudence  to  correct  it. 

The  abilities  of  men,  taken  upon  an  average,  are  so  very 
narrow,  that  it  is  in  vain  to  expect  that  the  bulk  of  a  peo- 
ple should  be  very  knowing.  Most  men  are  endowed 
with  parts  sufficient  for  enabling  them  to  provide  for  them- 
selves and  their  families,  and  secure  their  future  happiness. 
But  as  to  any  thing  greatly  beyond  the  common  arts  of 
life,  there  are  few  that  have  either  capacity  or  opportunity 
of  reaching  it.  Human  knowledge  itself  very  probably 
has  its  limits,  which  it  never  will  exceed,  while  the  pre- 
sent state  lasts.  The  system  of  the  world,  for  example, 
was  originally  produced,  and  has  been  since  conducted, 
by  a  wisdom  too  profound  for  human  capacity  to  trace 
through  all  his  steps.  History,  at  least  profane,  beyond 
the  two  thousand  years  last  past,  is  come  down  to  us  so 
defective,  and  so  mixed  with  fable,  that  little  satisfaction 
is  to  be  had  from  it.  And  the  history  of  succeeding  ages 
is  far  enough  from  being  unexceptionably  authenticated; 
though  this  is  not  denying,  that  physiology  and  history  are 


OF  KNOWLEDGE.  217 

still  highly  worthy  our  attention  and  inquiry.^  What  I  have 
said  of  these  two  considerable  heads  of  study  may  be  af- 
firmed in  some  degree  of  most  branches  of  human  knowl- 
edge, mathematics  and  mathematical  science  excepted. 
It  is  the  goodness  of  the  Author  of  our  being,  as  well  as  the 
excellence  of  our  nature,  and  the  comfort  of  our  present 
state,  that  the  knowledge  of  our  duty,  and  means  of  hap- 
piness, stands  clear  and  unquestionable  to  every  sound 
and  unprejudiced  mind;  that  the  difference  between  right 
and  wrong  is  too  obvious,  and  too  striking,  to  escape  ob- 
servation, or  tO'produce  difficulty  or  doubt ;  unless  where 
difficulties  are  laboriously  sought  after,  and  doubts  indus- 
triously raised ;  that  where  we  most  need  clearness  and 
certainty,  there  we  have  the  most  of  them ;  that  where 
doubts  would  be  most  distracting,  there  we  must  raise 
them  before  we  can  be  troubled  with  them,  and  that  where 
we  most  need  full  proof  to  determine  us,  there  we  have 
superabundant.  For  with  respect  to  our  duty  and  future 
expectations,  our  own  hearts  are  made  to  teach  us  them  : 
and,  as  if  the  internal  monitor,  Conscience,  was  not  suffi- 
cient, Heaven  itself  descends  to  illuminate  our  minds,  and 
all  Nature  exerts  herself  to  inculcate  this  grand  and  import- 
ant lesson,  That  Virtue  leads  to  happiness,  and  Vice  to 
destruction.  Of  which  subject  more  fully  in  the  following- 
book. 


F^ 


THE 


OF 


HUMAN  NATURE. 


BOOK  HI. 


OF  VIRTUE. 


INTRODUCTION. 
i 

an^l'^r  Tan  &*?'& t0  exist  in  two  different  states 

ani~efvand  ?  Spir  tUal;  a  mortal  life  °»  ^rth,  and 
th^uZ  a'  heT^ter>  «t  was  to  be  expected,  that  there 

e  ch  ofb,LCterta'n  P.eCUliar  re(luisites   f°r  <l>e  dignitj    S' 
each  of  the  two  difterent  states  respectively ;  and  that  at 

tttZtonhe  fhere  sh0l,ld  be  suc"  an  W'S 

deathP  ™°,f,u  ?    rr  ex,st(Lnce'  which  was  to  be  before 

ble  «  ^  ,  h'Ch  W*°  be  after  k' as  shouId  be  ■*■■ 
terd°d1rfe:entpart\0f  l'lesame  scheme=  »  that  the  tat- 
ntheS^ rtobe  ^e  sequel  of  the  former,  making 
in  the  whole  the  complete  existence  of  the  creature  be 
fng  nogend  U  entanceil"°  this  mortal  life,  but  knot 
In  the  two  parts  of  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature 
which  we  have  already  considered,  to  wit,  Prudence  and 
Knowledge,  it  is  evident,  that  the  immediate  vTew  is  to 
the  improvement  and  embellishment  of  life,  and  for  dif 

SSSFtfESS1  ,hrOUShsodet.^  ■»«*  same  time  that 
mam ,  if  not  the  greatest  part,  of  the  directions  eiven  for 
the  conduct  of  life,  and  of  the  understanding,  an^kewse 
useful  with  a  view  to  the  future  and  immortal  state And 


OF  VIRTUE.  219 

indeed  there  is  nothing  truly  worthy  of  our  attention, 
which  does  not  some  way  stand  connected  with  futurity. 

The  two  parts  of  the  subject  which  still  remain,  I  mean, 
of  Morals,  and  Revealed  Religion,  do  most  immediately 
and  directly  tend  to  prepare  us  for  a  future  state ;  but, 
at  the  same  time,  are  highly  necessary  to  be  studied 
and  attended  to,  if  we  mean  to  establish  the  happiness  even 
of  this  present  mortal  life  upon  a  sure  and  solid  founda- 
tion. But  every  one  of  the  four,  and  every  considerable 
particular  in  each  of  them,  is  absolutely  necessary  for 
raising  our  nature  to  that  perfection  and  happiness,  for 
which  it  is  intended. 

The  Dignity  of  Human  Nature  will,  in  the  following 
books,  appear  more  illustrious  than  the  preceding  part  of 
this  work  represents  it.  So  that  the  subject  rises  in  its  im- 
portance, and  demands  a  higher  regard.  Might  the  abili- 
ties of  the  writer  improve  accordingly.  Might  the  infi- 
nite Author  of  the  universal  oeconomy  illuminate  his 
mind,  and  second  his  weak  attempt  to  exhibit  in  one 
view  the  whole  of  what  mankind  have  to  do,  in  order  to 
their  answering  the  ends  which  the  Divine  Wisdom  and 
Goodness  had  in  view,  in  placing  them  in  a  state  of  dis- 
cipline and  improvement  for  endless  perfection  and  hap- 
piness. 

To  proceed  upon  a  solid  and  ample  foundation  in  the 
following  deduction  of  morals,  it  seems  proper  to  take 
an  extensive  prospect  of  things,  and  begin  as  high  as  pos- 
sible. 

First,  it  may  be  worth  while  briefly,  and  in  a  way  as 
little  abstract  or  logical  as  possible,  to  obviate  a  few  arti- 
ficial difficulties  that  have  been  started  by  some  of  those 
deep  and  subtle  men,  who  have  a  better  talent  at  puzzling 
than  enlightening  mankind.  One  of  those  imaginary  dif- 
ficulties is,  The  possibility  of  our  reason's  deceiving  us. 
■'  Our  reason,"  say  those  profound  gentlemen,  "tells  us, 
that  twice  two  are  four.  But  what  if  our  reason  impos- 
es upon  us  in  this  matter  ?  How,  if  in  the  world  of  the 
moon,  two  multiplied  by  two  should  be  found  to  make 
five  ?  Who  can  affirm  that  this  is  not  the  case  ?  Noth- 
ing indeed  seems  to  us  more  unquestionable  than  the 
proportions  among  numbers,  and  geometrical  figures. 
$o  that  we  cannot  (such  is  the  make  of  our  minds)  so 


220  OF  VIRTUE. 

much  as  conceive  the  possibility  that  twice  two  should, 
in  any  other  world,  or  state  of  things,  make  more  or 
less  than  four,  or  that  all  the  angles  of  a  plain  triangle 
should  be  cither  more  or  less  than  exactly  equal  to  two 
right  ones.  But  it  does  not  follow,  that  other  beings 
may  not  understand  things  in  a  quite  different  manner 
from  what  we  do." 

It  is  wonderful  how  any  man  should  have  hit  upon 
such  an  unnatural  thought  as  this  ;  since  the  very  difficulty 
is  founded  upon  a  flat  contradiction  and  impossibility. 
To  say,  I  am  convinced  that  twice  two  are  four,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  talk  of  doubting  whether  my  faculties  do 
not  deceive  me,  is  saying,  that  I  believe  twice  two  to  be 
four,  and  at  the  same  time  I  doubt  it ;  or  rather,  that  I  see 
it  to  be  so,  and  yet  I  do  not  see  it  to  be  so.  A  self-evi- 
dent truth  is  not  collected,  or  deducted,  but  intuitively 
perceived,  or  seen  by  the  mind.  And  other  worlds, 
and  other  states  of  things,  are  wholly  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. The  ideas  in  my  mind  are  the  objects  of  the 
perception  of  my  mind,  as  much  as  outward  objects  of 
my  eyes.  The  idea  of  two  of  the  lunar  inhabitants  is  as 
distinct  an  object  in  my  mind,  so  far  as  concerns  the  num- 
ber, as  that  of  two  shillings  in  my  hand.  And  I  see  as 
clearly,  that  twice  two  lunar  inhabitants  will  make  four 
lunarians,  as  that  twice  two  shillings  will  make  four  shil- 
lings. And  while  I  see  this  to  be  so,  I  see  it  to  be  so, 
and  cannot  suspect  it  possible  to  be  otherwise.  I  may 
doubt  the  perceptions  of  another  person,  if  I  cannot  my- 
self perceive  the  same  object :  But  I  cannot  doubt  what 
I  myself  perceive,  or  believe  that  to  be  possible,  which 
I  see  to  be  impossible. 

It  is  therefore  evident,  that  to  question  the  information 
of  our  faculties,  or  the  conclusions  of  our  reason,  without 
some  ground  from  our  faculties  themselves,  is  a  direct 
impossibility.  So  that  those  very  philosophers,  who  pre- 
tend to  question  the  informations  of  their  faculties,  neither 
do,  nor  can  really  question  them,  so  long  as  they  appear 
unquestionable. 

To  be  suspicious  of  one's  own  judgment  in  all  cases 
where  it  is  possible  to  err,  and  to  be  cautious  of  proceeding 
to  too  rash  conclusions,  is  the  very  character  of  wisdom. 
But  to  doubt,  or  rather  pretend  to  doubt,  where  reason 


OF  VIRTUE.  221 

sees  no  ground  for  doubt,  even  where  the  mind  distinctly 
perceives  truth,  is  endeavouring  at  a  pitch  of  folly,  of 
which  Human  Nature  is  not  capable. 

If  the  mind  is  any  thing,  if  there  are  any  reasoning  fac- 
ulties, what  is  the  object  of  those  reasoning  faculties  ? 
Not  falsehood  ;  For  falsehood  is  a  negative,  a  mere  noth- 
ing, and  is  not  capable  of  being  perceived,  or  of  being  an 
object  of  the  mind.  '  If  therefore  there  is  a  rational  mind 
in  the  universe,  the  object  of  that  mind  is  truth.  If  there 
is  no  truth,  there  is  no  perception.  Whatever  the  mind 
perceives,  so  far- as  the  perception  is  real,  is  truth.  When 
the  reasoning  faculty  is  deceived,  it  is  not  by  distinctly 
seeing  something  that  is  not,  for  that  is  impossible  ;  but 
either  by  not  perceiving  something,  which  if  perceived, 
would  alter  the  state  of  the  case  upon  the  whole,  or  by 
seeing  an  object  of  the  understanding  through  a  false  me- 
dium. But  these,  or  any  other  causes  of  error,  do  by  no 
means  affect  the  perception  of  a  simple  idea  ;  nor  the  per- 
ception of  a  simple  relation  between  two  simple  ideas  ; 
nor  a  simple  inference  from  such  simple  relation.  No 
mind  whatever  can  distinctly  and  intuitively  perceive,  or 
see  twice  two  to  be  five  :  Because  that  twice  two  should 
be  five,  is  an  impossibility  and  self-contradiction  in  terms, 
as  much  as  saying  that  four  is  five,  or  that  a  thing  is  what 
it  is  not.  Nor  can  any  mind  distinctly  perceive,  that  if 
two  be  to  four  as  four  is  to  eight,  therefore  thrice  two  is 
four,  for  that  would  be  distinctly  perceiving  an  impossi- 
bility. Now  an  impossibility  is  what  has  no  existence, 
nor  can  exist.  And  can  any  mind  perceive,  clearly  per- 
ceive, what  does  not  exist  ? 

To  perceive  nothing,  or  not  to  perceive,  is  the  same. 
So  that  it  is  evident,  so  much  of  any  thing  as  can  really 
be  perceived,  must  be  real  and  true.  There  is  therefore 
either  no  object  of  mind,  no  rational  faculties  in  the  uni- 
verse ;  or  there  is  a  real  truth  in  things  which  the  mind  per- 
ceives, and  which  is  the  only  object  it  can  perceive,  in 
the  same  manner  as  it  is  impossible  for  the  eye  to  see  ab- 
solute nothing,  or  to  see,  and  not  see,  at  the  same  time. 

The  only  point  therefore  to  be  attended  to,  is  to  endea- 
vour at  clear  perceptions  of  things,  with  all  their  circum- 
stances, connexions,  and  dependencies ;  which  requires 
more  and  more  accuracy  and  attention,  according  as  the 


:22:2  OF  VIRTUE. 

conclusion  to  be  drawn  arises  out  of  more  or  less  complex 
premises;  and  it  is  easy  to  imagine  a  mind  capable  of  taking 
in  a  much  greater  number  and  variety  of  particulars,  than 
can  be  comprehended  by  any  human  being,  and  of  seeing 
clearly  through  all  their  mutual  relations,  however  minute, 
extensive,  or  complicated.  To  such  amindall  kinds  of  diffi- 
culties in  all  parts  of  knowledge,  might  be  as  easy  to  inves- 
tigate, as  to  us  a  common  question  iii  arithmetic,  and  with 
equal  certainty.  For  truths  of  all  kinds  are  alike  certain 
and  alike  clear  to  minds,  whose  capacities  and  states  qual- 
ify them  for  investigating  them.  And  what  is  before  said 
with  regard  to  our  safety  in  trusting  our  faculties  in  math- 
ematical or  arithmetical  points,  is  equally  just  with  respect 
to  moral  and  all  other  subjects.  Whatever  is  a  real,  clear 
and  distinct  object  of  perception,  must  be  some  real  exist- 
ence. For  an  absolute  nothing  can  never  be  an  object  of 
distinct  perception.  Now  the  differences,  agreements, 
contrasts,  analogies,  and  all  other  relations  obtaining  among 
moral  ideas,  are  as  essentially  real,  and  as  proper  subjects 
of  reasoning,  as  those  in  numbers  and  mathematics.  I 
can  no  more  be  deceived,  nor  bring  myself  to  doubt  a 
clear  moral  proposition,  or  axiom,  than  a  mathematical 
one.  I  can  no  more  doubt,  whether  happiness  is  not  pre- 
ferable to  misery,  than  whether  the  whole  is  not  greater 
than  any  of  its  parts.  I  can  no  more  doubt,  whether  a 
being  who  enjoys  six  degrees  of  happiness,  and  at  the  same- 
time  labours  under  one  degree  of  misery,  is  not  in  abet- 
ter situation  than  another,  who  enjoys  but  three  degrees 
of  happiness,  and  is  exposed  to  one  of  misery,  suppos- 
ing those  degrees  equal  in  both,  than  I  can  doubt  whether 
a  man,  who  is  possessed  of  six  thousand  pounds  and  owes 
one,  or  another,  who  is  worth  only  three  thousand  pounds 
and  owes  one,  is  the  richer.  And  so  of  all  other  cases, 
where  our  views  and  perceptions  are  clear  and  distinct. 
For  a  truth  of  one  sort  is  as  much  a  truth,  as  of  another  ; 
and  when  fully  perceived,  is  as  incapable  of  being  doubted 
of  or  mistaken. 

Yet  some  have  argued,  that  though,  as  to  numbers  and 
mathematics,  there  is  a  real  independent  truth  in  the  nature 
of  things,  which  could  not  possibly  have  been  otherwise, 
it  is  quite  different  in  morals.  Though  it  was  impossi- 
ble in  the  nature  of  tilings,  that  twice  two  should  be  five, 


OF  VIRTUE.  223 

it  might  have  been  so  contrived,  that,  universally,  what 
is  now  virtue  should  have  been  vice,  and  what  is  now  vice 
should  have  been  virtue.  That  all  our  natural  notions  of 
right  and  wrong  are  wholly  arbitrary  and  factitious  ;  a  mere 
instinct  or  taste,  very  suitable  indeed  to  the  present  state 
of  things :  but  by  no  means  founded  in  reman  natura,  and 
only  the  pure  effect  of  a  positive  ordination  of  Divine  Wis- 
dom,  to  answer  certain  ends. 

It  does  not  suit  the  design  of  this  work  to  enter  into 
any  long  discussion  of  knotty  points.  But  I  would  ask 
those  gentlemen,  who  maintain  the  above  doctrine, 
whether  the  Divine  scheme  in  creating  an  universe,  and 
communicating  happiness  to  innumerable  beings,  which 
before  had  no  existence,  was  not  good,  or  preferable  to 
the  contrary?  If  they  say,  there  was  no  good  in  creating 
and  communicating  happiness,  they  must  show  the  wis- 
dom of  the  infinitely-wise  Creator  "in  choosing  rather  to 
create  than  not.  They  must  show  how  (to  speak  with 
reverence)  he  came  to  choose  to  create  a  world.  For 
since  all  things  appear  to  him  exactly  as  they  are,  if  it  was 
not  in  itself  wiser  and  better  to  create  than  not,  it  must 
have  appeared  so  to  him,  and  if  it  had  appeared  so  to  him, 
it  is  certain  he  never  had  produced  a  world. 

To  this  some  answer,  that  his  creating  a  world  was  not 
the  consequence  of  his  seeing  it  to  be  in  itself  better  to 
create  than  not ;  but  he  was  moved  to  it  by  the  benevo- 
lence of  his  own  nature,  which  attribute  of  goodness  or 
benevolence  is,  as  well  as  benevolence  in  a  good  man, 
according  to  their  notion  of  it,  no  more  than  a  taste  or  in' 
clmation,  which  happens,  they  know  not  how,  to  be  in 
the  Divine  Nature ;  but  is  in  itself  indifferent,  and  ab- 
stracting from  its  consequences,  neither  amiable  nor 
odious,  good  nor  bad.  To  this  the  reply  is  easy,  to  wit. 
That  there  is  not,  nor  can  be,  any  attribute  in  the  Divine 
Nature,  that  could  possibly  have  been  wanting;  or  the 
want  of  which  would  not  have  been  an  imperfection  :  for 
whatever  is  in  his  nature,  is  necessary,  else  it  could  not  be 
in  his  nature ;  necessity  being  the  only  account  to  be 
given  for  his  existence  and  attributes.  Now  what  is  in  its 
own  nature  indifferent,  cannot  be  said  to  exist  necessarily  - 
therefore  could  not  exist  in  God.  To  question  whether 
goodness  or  benevolence  in  the  Divine  Nature  is  neces- 


224  OF  VIRTUE 

sarv  or  accidental,  is  the  same,  as  questioning  whether  the 
very  existence  of  the  Deity  is  necessary  or  accidental. 
For  whatever  is  in  God,  is  God.  And  to  question  whether 
the  Divine  attribute  of  goodness  is  a  real  perfection,  or  a 
thing  indifferent,  that  is,  to  doubt,  whether  the  Divine 
Nature  might  not  have  been  as  perfect  without,  as  with 
it,  comes  to  the  same  as  questioning,  whether  existtnee  is 
a  thing  indifferent  to  the  Deity,  or  not.  His  whole  na- 
ture is  excellent;  is  the  abstract  of  excellence  ;  and  noth- 
ing belonging  to  him  is  indifferent.  Of  which  more 
hereafter. 

It  is  therefore  evident,  that  the  benevolence  of  the  Di- 
vine Nature  is  in  itself  a  real  excellence  or  perfection,  in- 
dependent of  our  ideas  of  it,  and  cannot,  without  the  high- 
est absurdity,  not  to  say  impiety,  be  conceived  of,  as  in- 
different. It  is  also  evident,  that  it  must  have  been  upon 
the  whole  better  that  the  universe  should  be  created,  and 
a  number  of  creatures  produced  (in  order  to  be  partakers 
of  various  degrees  and  kinds  of  happiness)  than  not ;  else 
God,  who  sees  all  things  as  they  are,  could  not  have  sten 
any  reason  for  creating,  and  therefore  would  not  have 
created  them. 

Let  it  then  be  supposed,  that  some  being  should,  through 
thoughtlessness  and  voluntary  blindness  at  first,  and  after- 
wards through  pride  and  rebellion,  at  length  work  up  his 
malice  to  that  degree,  as  to  wish  to  destroy  the  whole  crea- 
tion, or  to  subject  millions  of  innocent  beings  to  unspeaka- 
ble misery  ;  would  this  likewise  be  good  ?  Was  it  better  to 
create  than  not  ?  and  is  it  likewise  better  to  destroy  than  pre- 
serve? Was  it  good  to  give  being  and  happiness  to  innu- 
merable creatures'?  and  would  it  likewise  be  good  to  plunge 
innumerable  innocent  creatures  into  irrecoverable  ruin  and 
misery  ?  If  these  seeming  opposites  be  not  entirely  the 
same,  then  there  is  in  morals  a  real  difference,  an  eternal 
and  unchangeable  truth,  proportion,  agreement,  and  dis- 
agreement, in  the  nature  of  things  (of  which  the  Divine 
Nature  is  the  basis)  independent  on  positive  will,  and  which 
could  not  have  been  otherwise;  being  no  more  arbitrary 
or  factitious,  than  what  is  found  in  numbers  or  mathemat- 
ics. So  that  a  wickedly  disposed  being  would,  so  long  as 
he  continued  unreformed,  have  been  as  really  so  in  any 
other  state  of  thing's,  and  in  anv  other  world,  as  in  this  .in 


OF  VIRTUE.  225 

which  we  live  ;  and  a  good  being  would  have  been  equally 
amiable  and  valuable  ten  thousand  years  ago,  and  in  the 
planet  Jupiter,  as  upon  earth,  and  in  our  times  ;  and  the 
difference  between  the  degrees  of  goodness  and  malignity 
are  as  determinate,  and  as  distinctly  perceived  by  supe- 
rior beings,  as  between  a  hundred,  a  thousand,  and  a  mil- 
lion; or  between  a  line,  a  surface,  and  a  cube. 

Nothing  is  more  evident,  than  that  we  can  enter  a  very 
great  way  into  the  Divine  scheme  in  the  natural  world, 
and  see  very  clearlv  the  wisdom  and  contrivance,  which 
shine  conspicuous  in  every  part  of  it.  I  believe  nobody 
ever  took  it  into  his  head  to  doubt,  whether  the  inhabi- 
tants of  any  other  world  would  not  judge  the  sun  to  be 
proper  for  giving  light,  the  eye  for  seeing,  the  ear  for  hear- 
ing, and  so  forth.  No  one  ever  doubted  whether  the  an- 
gel Gabriel  conceived  of  the  wisdom  of  God  in  the  natu- 
ral world,  in  any  manner  contrary  to  what  we  do.  Why 
then  should  people  fill  their  heads  with  fancies,  about  our 
perceptions  of  moral  truth,  any  more  than  of  natural  ? 
There  is  no  doubt,  but  we  have  all  our  clear  and  imme- 
diate ideas,  by  our  being  capable  of  seeing,  or  apprehend- 
ing  (within  a  certain  limited  sphere)  things  as  they  are  real- 
ly and  essentially  in  themselves.  And  we  may  be  assured, 
that  simple  truths  do  bv  no  means  appear  to  our  minds  in 
any  state  essentially  different  irom  or  contrary  to  that  in 
which  they  appear  ro  the  mind  of  the  angel  Gabriel. 

That  there  is  a  possibility  of  attaining  certainty,  by  sen- 
sation, intuition,  deduction,  testimony,  and  inspiration, 
seems  easy  enough  to  prove.  For,  first,  where  sensation 
is,  all  other  arguments  or  proofs  are  superfluous.  What 
I  feel  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  doubt,  ifl  would.  I  must 
either  really  exist  or  not.  But  I  cannot  even  be  mistaken 
in  imagining  I  feel  my  own  existence  ;  for  that  necessarily 
supposes  my  existing.  I  feel  my  mind  easy  and  calm. 
I  cannot,  if  I  would,  bring  myself  to  doubt,  whether  my 
mind  is  easy  and  calm.  Because  I  feel  a  perfect  internal 
tranquility  ;  and  there  is  nothing  within  or  without  me  to 
persuade  me  to  doubt  the  reality  of  what  I  feel ;  and  u  hat 
I  really  feel,  so  far  as  I  really  feel  it,  must  be  real ;  it  be- 
ing absurd  to  talk  of  feeling  or  perceiving  what  has  no 
real  existence. 

Again,  there  is  no  natural  absurdity  in  supposing  it  pos- 

2  F 


226  OF  VIRTU- 

sible  for  a  human  or  other  intelligent  mind,  to  arrive  at  a 
clear  and  distinct  perception  of  truth  by  intuition.  On 
the  contrary,  the  supposition  of  the  possibility  of  a  faculty  of 
intelligence  necessarily  infers  the  possibility  of  the  exist- 
ence of  truth,  as  the  object  of  intelligence,  and  of  truth's 
being  in  the  universe  capable  of  understanding  truth,  there 
must  be  truth  for  that  being  to  understand ;  and  that  truth 
must  be  within  the  reach  of  his  understanding.  But  as  it 
is  self-evident,  that  there  are  an  infinite  number  of  ideal, 
or  conceivable  truths,  it  is  likewise  evident,  there  must  be 
an  infinitely  comprehensive  understanding,  which  perceives 
this  infinity  of  truths.  To  talk  of  a  truth  perceivable  by 
no  mind,  or  that  never  has  been  the  object  of  any  percep- 
tive faculty,  would  be  a  self-contradiction.  Mind  is  the 
very substratum  of  truth.  An  infinite  mind  of  infinite  truth. 
That  a  finite  understanding  may  attain  a  finite  perception 
of  truth,  is  necessary  to  be  admitted,  unless  we  deny  the 
possibility  of  the  existence  of  any  finite  understanding. 
For  an  understanding  capable  of  attaining  no  degree  of 
knowledge  of  truth,  or  an  understanding  which  neither  did 
nor  could  understand  or  preceive  any  one  truth,  is  a  con- 
tradiction in  words.  Proceeding  in  this  train  of  reason- 
ing, we  say,  Either  there  is  no  such  thing  as  intuition  pos- 
sible, or  it  must  be  possible  by  intuition  to  perceive  truth  ; 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  sensation  possible,  or  it  must  be 
possible  for  the  mind  to  perceive  real  objects.  That  what 
we  actually  and  really  apprehend  by  intuition  and  sensa- 
tion, must  be  somewhat  real,  as  far  as  actually  and  really 
apprehended ;  it  being  impossible  to  apprehend  that  which 
is  not.  Now,  the  evidence  of  the  reality  of  any  existence, 
or  the  truth  of  any  proposition,  let  it  be  conveyed  to  the 
mind  by  deduction,  by  testimony,  by  revelation,  or  if 
there  were  a  thousand  other  methods  of  information,  would 
still  be  reducible  at  last  to  direct  intuition;  excepting 
what  arises  from  sensation.  The  mind,  in  judging  of 
any  proposition,  through  whatever  channel  communicated 
to  it,  or  on  whatever  argument  established,  judges  of  the 
strength  of  the  evidence ;  it  makes  allowance  for  the 
objections  ;  it  balances  the  arguments,  or  considerations 
of  whatever  kind,  against  one  another,  it  sees  which  pre- 
ponderates. And  supposing  this  to  be  done  properly,  it 
sees  the  true  state  of  the  case,  and  determines  accordingly ; 


OF  VIRTUE.  227 

nor  can  it  possibly  determine  contrary  to  what  it  sees  to 
be  the  true  state  of  the  case. 

When,  for  example,  I  consider  in  my  own  mind,  on 

one  hand,  the  various  evidence  from  authors  and  remains 
of  antiquity,  that  there  was  formerly  such  a  state  as  the 
Roman,  which  conquered  great  part  of  this  side  of  the 
globe ;  and  on  the  other,  find  no  reason  for  doubting  of 
the  existence  of  such  a  state  in  former  times,  I  find  it  as 
reasonable  to  believe  it,  and  as  impossible  to  doubt  it,  as 
to  doubt  the  solution  of  a  question  in  numbers  or  quantity, 
which  I  had  proved  by  arithmetic,  vulgar  and  decimal, 
and  by  Algebra.  And  so  of  other  instances.  So  that, 
though  it  would  not  be  proper  to  say,  I  see,  by  intuition, 
the  truth  of  this  proposition,  "  There  was  once  suci  a  city 
as  Rome;''''  yet  I  may  with  the  utmost  propriety  say,  I 
see  such  a  superabundance  of  evidence  for  the  truth  of  th& 
proposition,  and  at  the  same  time  see  no  reason  to  think 
that  any  valid  objections  can  be  brought  against  it,  that  I 
intuitively  see  the  evidence  for  it  to  be  such  as  puts  it 
beyond  all  possibility  of  being  doubted  by  me,  and  feel 
that,  though  I  should  labour  ever  so  much  to  bring  my- 
self to  question  it,  I  absolutely  cannot ;  nor  can  I  conceive 
it  possible  that  it  should  appear  questionable  to  any  person, 
who  has  fairly  considered  it. 

Suppose,  in  the  same  manner,  (in  a  point  which  has  been 
disputed)  a  man,  of  a  clear  head,  to  have  thoroughly  exam- 
ined all  the  various  evidences  for  the  christian  religion, 
allowing  to  every  one  its  due  weight,  and  no  more ;  sup- 
pose him  to  have  attentively  considered  every  objection 
against  it,  allowing,  likewise,  to  every  one  impartially  its 
full  force ;  suppose  the  result  of  the  whole  inquiry  to  be 
his  finding  such  a  preponderancy  of  evidence  for  the  truth 
of  Christianity,  as  should  beyond  all  comparison  overbal- 
ance the  whole  weight  of  the  objections  against  it ;  I  say, 
that  such  a  person  would  then  intuitively  see  the  evidence 
for  ohristianity  to  be  unsurmountable ;  and  could  no  more 
bring  himself  to  doubt  it,  than  to  doubt  whether  all  the 
angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  ones ;  nor  to 
conceive  the  possibility  of  any  other  person's  doubting  it, 
who  had  fairly  considered  both  sides  of  the  question. 

In  the  same  maner  a  person,  who  should  carefully  ex- 
amine the  arguments  in  a  system  of  ethics,  and  should 


228  OF  VIRTUE. 

clearly  and  convincingly  perceive  the  strength  of  each,  the 
connexion  of  one  with  another, and  the  result  ol  the  whole ; 
might  in  the  strictest  propriety  of  speech  be  said  to  see 
intuitively  the  truth  and  justness  of  that  system  of  ethics. 

If  so,  then  it  is  plain,  that  certainty  is,  in  the  nature  of 
things,  equally  attainable  upon  all  subjects,  though  beings 
of  no  limited  capacity  may  not,  in  our  present  impeifect 
state,  be  capable  of  attaining  it.  In  the  same  manner  as 
the  truth  of  the  most  obvious  axiom  in  arithmetic  or  gcom- 
etrv,  may  lie  out  of  the  reach  of  an  infant,  or  an  idiot ; 
which  appears  self-evident  to  the  first  glance  of  any  mind 
th  t  is  capable  of  putting  two  thoughts  together.  How 
comes  it  to  pass,  that  the  truth  of  such  an  axiom  as  the 
following  appears  immediately  incontestable :  That  if  from 
equal  quantities  equal  quantities  be  subtracted,  equal 
quantities  will  remain?  How  comes,  I  say,  the  truth  of 
this  axiom  to  appear  at  once,  while  moral  doctrines  furnish 
t  ■  dless  dispute  ?  The  obvious  answer  is,  from  the  simpli- 
city of  the  terms  of  the  proposition,  and  of  what  is  affirmed 
of  them,  which  leaves  no  room  for  ambiguity  or  uncer- 
tainty ;  and  from  the  narrowness  of  the  subject  to  be  con- 
sidered, or  the  smallness  of  the  number  of  ideas  to  be  taken 
in,  which  prevents  all  danger  of  puzzling,  or  distracting 
the  understanding,  and  rendering  the  result  or  conclusion 
doubtful.  Suppose  the  arguments  for  Christianity  to  be 
exactly  one  thousand,  and  the  objections  against  it  exactly 
one  hundred:  Suppose  an  angelic,  or  other  superior  un- 
derstanding, to  perceive  intuitively  the  exact  state  of  each ; 
and  to  see  distinctly  the  hundred  objections  to  be  sur- 
mountable, or  not  valid,  and  the  arguments  to  every  one 
solid  and  conclusive ;  I  say,  that  such  a  being  would 
intuitively  see  the  truth  of  Christianity  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  a  human  mind  sees  the  truth  of  any  complex  demon- 
stration in  Euclid. 

It  is  therefore  certain,  that  all  evidence  whatever  is  to 
be  finally  tried  by,  and  reduced  to  intuition,  except  that 
which  we  have  from  sensation  :  That  truth  of  all  kinds  is 
equally  capable  of  being  intuitively  perceived,  and  of  be- 
ing ascertained  to  minds  fitted  for  receiving  and  examin- 
ing it :  That  moral  truth  is  in  no  respect  naturally  more 
vague  or  precarious  than  mathematical ;  but  equally  fixed, 
and   equally    clear,    to  superior  minds ;    and  probably 


OF  VIRTUE.  229 

will  be  so  hereafter  to  those  of  the  human  make,  who 
shall  attain  to  higher  improvements  in  future  states: 
And  that  in  the  mean  time  our  duty  is  to  examine  care- 
fullv,  and  to  act  upon  the  result  of  candid  inquiry. 

That  we  are,  in  some  instances  of  inconsiderable  im- 
portance to  our  final  happiness,  liable  to  error,  is  no  more 
than  a  natural  consequence  of  the  imperfection  of  our 
present  state,  and  the  number  of  particulars  necessary  to 
be  taken  in,  in  order  to  find  out  the  true  state  of  things  upon 
the  whole.  But  this,  so  far  from  proving  the  impossi- 
bility of  coming  at  truth,  or  that  we  are  exposed  to  irre- 
midable  error,  shows,  that  truth  is  certainly  to  be  attained 
by  such  intelligent  beings  as  shall  with  proper  advantages 
of  capacity  and  means,  set  themselves  to  the  finding 
it  out  with  sincerity  and  diligence. 

The  amount  of  what  has  been  said  on  moral  certainty 
is  briefly  as  follows,  viz. 

That  it  is  self- contradictory  to  talk  of  doubting  the  per- 
ceptions of  our  faculties,  it  being  impossible  to  perceive  a 
truth  clearly,  and  yet  to  doubt  it. 

That  our  simple  ideas  being  the  immediate  objects  of 
our  understandings,  and  being  level  to  direct  intuition, 
are  capable  of  being  with  the  greatest  exactness  examined 
and  compared,  in  order  to  finding  the  truth  or  false- 
hood, of  any  proposition,  whose  terms  are  not  too  com- 
plex, or  otherwise  out  of  the  reach  of  our  faculties.  And 
that  whatever  the  understanding  clearly  determines,  after 
mature  examination,  to  be  truth,  it  is  impossible  to  doubt. 

That  whatever  any  mind  really  perceives  must  be  real, 
as  far  as  perceived.  That  therefore,  there  must  be  real 
truth  perceivable,  else  there  could  be  no  perceptive  faculty 
in  the  universe  ;  since  falsehoods  and  impossibilities 
are  not  in  the  nature  of  things  perceivable,  being  non- 
entities. 

That  all  kinds  of  truths  appear  equally  certain  to  minds 
capable  of  investigating  them.  That  moral  truth  is  in 
its  own  nature  no  more  vague  or  precarious,  than  mathe- 
matical; though  in  some  instances  more  difficultly  in- 
vestigated by  our  narrow  and  defective  faculties. 

That  there  must  be  in  the  nature  of  things,  (the  basis 
of  which  is  the  Divine  Nature)  an  eternal,  essential,  and 
unchangeable  difference  in  morals;  that  there  is  a  real, 


230  OF  VIRTUE. 

not  a  factitious,  or  arbitrary,  good  and  evil,  a  greater  and 
less  preferablencss  in  different  characters  and  actions. 
That,  accordingly,  if  it  had  been  in  the  nature  of  things 
no  way  better  that  an  universe  should  be  created,  than 
not ;  it  is  evident,  God,  who  sees  all  things  as  they  are, 
would  not  have  seen  any  reason  for  creating  an  universe, 
and  therefore  would  not  have  exerted  his  power  in  the 
production  of  it. 

That  the  divine  attribute  of  benevolence,  is  in  its  own 
nature,  really  and  essentially,  and  without  all  regard  to 
the  notions  of  created  beings,  and  exclusive  of  all  conse- 
quences, a  perfection  ;  not  an  indifferent  property,  as 
some  pretend.  For  that  nothing  either  evil  or  indifferent 
can  be  conceived  of  as  existing  necessarily;  but  the 
divine  benevolence  and  all  the  other  attributes  of  his  na- 
ture exist  necessarily. 

That  if  it  was  proper  or  good,  to  create  an  universe  of 
beings  capable  of  happiness,  it  must  on  the  contrary  be  im- 
proper, or  morally  wicked,  to  endeavour  to  oppose  the 
divine  scheme  of  benevolence,  or  to  wish  innocent  beings 
condemned  to  misery.  There  is  therefore  an  eternal  and 
essential,  not  a  factitious,  or  arbitrary,  good  and  evil  in 
morals  ;  and  the  foundation  of  moral  good  is  in  the  necesv 
sary  and  unchangeable  attributes  of  the  Divine  Nature. 

That  certainty  is  in  the  nature  of  things  attainable  by 
sensation.  That  reality  must  be  the  object  of  sensation, 
it  being  impossible  to  feel  what  has  no  existence.  That 
it  is  impossible  to  doubt  what  we  perceive  by  sensation. 

That  certainty  is  in  the  nature  of  things  attainable  by 
intuition.  That  the  existence  of  intelligence  necessarily 
supposes  that  of  truth,  as  the  object  of  understanding. 
That  trudi  is  a  Divine  Attribute ;  therefore  must  exist 
necessarily.  That  every  intelligent  mind  must  be  sup- 
posed capable  of  intuitively  perceiving  truth.  And  that 
wre  find  by  experience,  we  cannot  even  force  ourselves  to 
doubt  the  truths  we  intuitively  pereeive. 

That  such  certainty  is  in  the  nature  of  things  attain- 
able in  subjects  of  which  we  receive  information  bv  de- 
duction, testimony,  and  revelation,  as  renders  it  impossi- 
ble for  the  mind  to  hesitate  or  doubt.  For  that  the  sum, 
or  result,  of  all  kinds  of  evidence,  however  complex  and 


OF  VIRTUE.  231 

various,  except  what  arises  from  sensation ;  is  the  object 
of  direct  intuition. 

To  conclude  this  introduction  :  were  our  present  state 
much  more  disadvantageous  than  it  is  ;  and  did  we  la- 
bour under  much  greater  difficulty  and  uncertainty,  than 
we  do,  in  our  search  after  truth ;  prudence  would  still 
direct  us  upon  the  whole,  what  course  to  take.  The  proba- 
bility of  safety  in  the  main  would  still  be  upon  the  side 
of  virtue  :  and  there  would  still  be  reason  to  fear  that  vice 
and  irregularity  would  end  ill.  This  alone  would  be  enough 
to  keep  wise  and  considerate  beings  to  their  duty,  as  far  as 
known.  But  our  condition  is  very  different ;  and  our 
knowledge  of  all  necessary  truth  sufficiently  clear,  exten- 
sive and  certain. 


SECTION  I. 

The  Being  and  Attributes  of  God  established  as  the  Foun- 
dation of  Morality. 

NOTHING  is  more  indisputable  than  that  something 
now  exists.  Every  person  may  say  to  himself,  "  I  cer- 
tainly exist ;  for  I  feel  that  I  exist.  And  I  could  neither 
feel  that  I  exist  nor  be  deceived  in  imagining  it,  if  I 
was  nothing.  If,  therefore,  I  exist,  the  next  question 
is,  How  came  I  to  be?"  Whatever  exists,  must  owe 
its  being,  and  the  particular  circumstances  of  it,  to  some 
cause  prior  to  itself,  unless  it  exists  necessarily.  For 
a  being  to  exist  necessarily,  is  to  exist  so  as  that  it 
was  impossible  for  that  being  not  to  have  existed,  and 
that  the  supposition  of  its  not  existing  should  imply  a  di- 
rect contradiction  in  terms.  Let  any  person  try  to  con- 
ceive of  space  and  duration  as  annihilated  or  not  existing, 
and  he  will  find  it  impossible,  and  that  they  will  still  return 
upon  his  mind  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  the  contrary. 
Such  an  existence  therefore  is  necessary,  of  which  there 
is  no  other  account  to  be  given,  than  that  it  is  the  nature 
of  the  thing  to  exist ;  and  this  account  is  fully  satisfying 
to  the  mind. 

Whatever  difficulty  we  may  find  in  conceiving  of  the, 
particular  modus  of  a  necessary  existence  ;  an  existence, 
which  always  was,  and  could  not  but  be  ;  always  continu- 


232  OF  VIRTUE. 

ing,  but  which  never  had  a  beginning  ;  as  all  the  difficulty 
of  such  conceptions  evidently  arises  from  the  narrow- 
ness of  our  finite  and  limited  minds,  and  as  our  reason 
forces  us  upon  granting  the  reality  and  necessity  of  them,  it 
would  be  contradicting  the  most  irresistible  convictions  of 
our  reason  to  dispute  them  ;  and  it  is  indeed  out  of  our 
power  to  dispute  them. 

To  have  recourse  to  an  infinite  succession  of  dependant 
causes,  produced  by  one  another  from  eternin ,  and  to 
give  that  as  an  account  of  the  existence  of  the  world,  will 
give  no  satisfaction  to  the  mind,  but  will  confound  it 
with  an  infinite  absurdity.  For  if  it  be  absurd  to  attempt 
to  conceive  of  one  single  dependent  being,  produced  with- 
out a  cause,  or  existing  without  being  brought  into  exist- 
ence by  some  pre-existing  cause,  it  is  infinitely  more  so 
to  try  to  conceive  of  an  infinite  series  of  dependent  beings 
existing  without  being  produced  by  any  original  and  un- 
created cause;  as  it  would  be  more  shocking  to  talk  of  a 
thousand  links  of  a  chain  hanging  upon  nothing,  than  of 
one. 

That  the  material  world  is  not  the  first  cause,  is  evident ; 
because  the  first  cause,  existing  necessarily,  without  which 
necessity  he  could  not  possibly  exist  as  a  first  cause,  must 
be  absolutely  perfect,  unchangeable,  and  every  where  the 
same,  of  which  afterwards.  ThiJ>  we  see  is  by  no  means 
to  be  affirmed  of  the  material  world ;  its  form,  motion, 
and  substance,  being  endlessly  various,  and  subject  to  per- 
petual change.  That  nothing  material  could  have  been 
the  necessarily  existent  first  cause  is  evident,  because  we 
know  that  all  material  substances  consist  of  a  number  of 
unconnected  and  separable  particles  :  which  would  give, 
not  one,  but  a  number  of  first  causes,  which  is  a  palpable 
absurdity,  And  that  the  first  cause  cannot  be  one  single 
indivisible  atom  is  plain,  because  the  first  cause,  being, 
necessarily  existent,  must  be  equally  necessary  through- 
out infinite  space. 

That  chance,  which  is  only  a  word,  not  a  real  being, 
should  be  the  cause  of  the  existence  of  the  world,  is  the 
same  as  saying,  that  nothing  is  the  cause  of  its  existence,  or 
that  it  neither  exists  necessarily,  nor  was  produced  by 
that  which  exists  necessarily  and  therefore  does  not 
exist  at  all.     Therefore,  after  supposing  ever  so  long  a 


OF  VIRTUE.  233 

series  of  beings  producing  one  another,  we  must  at  last 
have  recourse  to  some  First  Cause  of  all,  himself  uncaused, 
existing  necessarily,  or  so,  as  that  the  supposition  of  his 
not  existing  would  imply  a  contradiction.  The  first  cause 
wc  call,  God. 

The  first  cause  must  of  necessity  be  one,  in  the  most 
pure,  simple,  and  indivisible  manner.  For  the  first  cause 
must  exist  necessarily,  that  is,  it  is  a  direct  absurdity  to 
say,  that  something  now  exists,  and  yet  there  is  no  original 
first  cause  of  existence.  Now  when  to  avoid  this  absur- 
dity, we  have  admitted  one  independent,  necessarily  exist- 
ent first  cause,  if  we  afterwards  proceed  to  admit  another 
first  cause,  or  number  of  first  causes,  we  shall  find,  that 
all  but  one  are  superfluous.  Because  one  is  sufficient  to 
account  for  the  existence  of  all  things.  And  as  it  will 
evidently  be  no  contradiction  to  suppose  any  one  out  of 
a  plurality  not  to  exist,  since  one  alone  is  sufficient ;  it  fol- 
lows, that  there  can  be  but  one  single  first  cause. 

Besides,  it  will  be  made  evident  by  and  by,  that  the 
first  cause  must  be  absolutely  perfect  in  every  possible 
respect,  and  in  every  possible  degree.  Now  that  which 
ingrosses  and  swallows  up  into  itself  all  possible  perfection, 
or  rather  is  itself  absolute  perfection,  can  be  but  one;  be- 
cause there  can  be  but  one  absolute  Whole  of  perfection. 

We  may  possibly,  through  inattention,  commit  mis- 
takes with  respects  to  what  are,  or  are  not,  perfections,  fit 
to  be  ascribed  to  the  first  cause/ as  some  of  the  heathens 
were  absurd  enough  to  ascribe  even  to  their  supreme  deity, 
attributes  which  ought  rather  to  be  termed  vices  than 
virtues.  But  we  can  never  mistake  in  ascribing  to  the 
Supreme  Being  all  possible,  real,  and  consistent  perfec- 
tions. For  a  being,  who  exists  naturally  and  neces- 
sarily, must  of  necessity  exist  in  an  infinite  and  un- 
bounded manner  ;  the  ground  of  his  existence  being  alike 
in  all  moments  of  duration,  and  all  points  of  space, 
Whatever  exists  naturally  and  necessarily  in  the  east, 
must  of  course  exist  naturally  and  necessarily  in  the  west, 
in  the  south,  and  in  the  north,  above  and  below,  in  for- 
mer, present  and  in  future  times.  Whatever  exists  in 
this  manner,  exists  in  a  perfect  manner.  Whatever  exists 
in  a  perfect  manner,  in  respect  of  extent  and  duration, 
must  evidentlv  be  perfect  in  everv  other  respect  of  which 

2G 


234  OF  VIRTUE. 

its  nature  is  capable.  For  the  whole  idea  of  such  a  being  is 
by  the  supposition  natural  and  necessary  ;  a  partial  necessi- 
ty being  an  evident  absurdity.  That  the  first  cause  therefore 
should  be  deficient  inany  one  perfection  consistent  with  the 
nature  of  such  a  Being  as  we  must  conclude  the  first  cause 
to  be,  is  as  evident  a  contradiction  as  to  say,  that  the  first  cause 
may  naturally  and  necessarily  exist  in  the  east,  and  not  in 
the  west,  at  present,  but  not  in  time  past  or  to  come.  For 
suppose  it  were  argued,  that  the  first  cause  may  not  be 
infinite,  for  example,  in  wisdom;  I  ask  first,  Whether 
wisdom  can  be  said  to  be  a  property  unsuitable  to  the  idea 
of  the  first  cause?  This  will  hardly  be  pretended.  No 
one  can  imagine  it  would  be  a  more  proper  idea  of  the  first 
cause,  to  think  of  him  as  of  a  being  utterly  void  of  intelli- 
gence, than  as  infinite  in  knowledge.  It  is  evident  that 
of  two  beings,  otherwise  alike,  but  one  of  which  was  wholly 
void  of  intelligence,  and  the  other  possessed  of  it,  the  latter 
would  be  more  perfect  than  the  former,  by  the  difference 
of  the  whole  amount  of  the  intelligence  he  possessed.  On 
the  other  hand,  of  two  beings  otherwise  alike,  but  one  of 
which  laboured  under  a  vicious  inclination,  which  occa- 
sioned a  deviation  from,  or  deficiency  of  moral  perfection, 
and  the  other  was  wholly  clear  of  such  imperfection,  the 
latter  would  be  a  more  perfect  nature  than  the  former,  by 
the  difference  of  the  whole  amount  of  such  negative  quan- 
tity, or  deficiency.  Which  shows  the  necessity  of  ascrib- 
ing to  the  Supreme  Being  every  possible  real  perfection, 
and  the  absurdity  of  supposing  the  smallest  imperfection 
or  deficiency  to  be  in  his  nature. 

If  it  be  evident  then  that  wisdom,  inany,  the  lowest 
degree,  is  an  attribute  fit  to  be  ascribed  to  the  first  cause, 
and  if  whatever  is  in  the  first  cause,  is  in  him  naturally 
and  necessarily,  that  is,  could  not  but  have  been  in  him,  it 
is  obvious,  that  such  an  attribute  cannot  be  in  him  in  any 
limited  degree,  any  more  than  he  can  naturally  and  neces- 
sarily exist  in  one  point  of  space,  and  not  through  all. 
It  is  an  evident  contradiction  to  suppose  the  first  cause 
existing  naturally  and  necessarily,  and  yet  limited,  either  as 
to  his  existence  or  perfections  ;  because  it  is  plain,  there 
can  be  nothing  to  limit  them,  which  is  the  same  as  saying, 
that  they  must  be  unlimited.  Farther,  whatever  is  in  the 
nature  or  essence  of  the  first  cause,  must  be  in  him  natu 


OF  VIRTUE.  235 

tally  and  necessarily ;  that  is,  is  an  essential  attribute  of 
his  nature,  or  could  not  but  have  been  in  his  nature*;  for  if 
it  had  been  possible  that  his  nature  could  have  been  with- 
outany  particular  attribute,  it  certainly  would,  by  the  very 
supposition.  Now,  whatever  is  necessarily  an  attribute  of 
Deity,  is  Deiry.  And  limited  Deity  is  a  contradiction  as 
much  as  limited  infinity.  For  infinity  is  unbounded, 
knowledge  is  unbounded,  power  is  unbounded,  goodness 
is  unbounded.  These  and  the  rest  are  the  necessary  attri- 
butes of  Deity.  And  as  they  are  in  him,  they  together 
form  the  idea  of  Supreme  Deity.  The  Deity,  or  First 
Cause,  must  therefore  be  possessed  of  every  possible  per- 
fection  in  an  infinite  degree  ;  all  those  perfections  being 
naturally  infinite,  and  there  being  nothing  to  limit  the 
Deity,  or  his  perfections. 

We  cannot  therefore  avoid  concluding,  that  the  first 
cause  is  possessed  of  infinite  intelligence,  or  knowledge, 
that  his  infinite  mind  is  a  treasure  of  an  infinity  of  truths, 
that  he  has  ever  had  at  all  moments  from  all  eternity,  and 
ever  will  to  all  eternity  have  in  his  view,  and  in  actual  con- 
templation, all  things  that  ever  have  existed,  that  do  now, 
or  ever  shall  exist,  throughout  infinite  space  and  duration, 
with  all  their  connexions,  relations,  dependences,  grada- 
tions, proportions,  differences,  contrasts,  causes,  effects, 
and  all  circumstances  of  all  kinds,  with  the  ideas  of  all 
things  which  are  merely  possible,  or  whose  existence  does 
not  imply  a  contradiction,  though  they  have  never  actu- 
ally existed,  with  all  their  possible  relations,  connexions, 
and  circumstances,  whose  idea  is  conceivable.  In  one 
word,  the  Divine  mind  must  comprehend  all  things  that 
by  their  nature  are  capable  of  being  known  or  conceived. 

From  the  same  necessary  connexion  between  the  infin- 
ity of  the  first  cause  in  one  particular,  and  in  all,  we  cannot 
avoid  concluding,  that  he  must  be  infinite  in  goodness,  it 
being  self-evident,  that  goodness  or  benevolence  must  in 
any  state  of  things  be  a  perfection,  and  the  want  of  any 
degree  of  it  a  deficiency.  To  be  infinite  in  goodness  is  to 
possess  such  benevolence  of  nature,  as  no  conceivable  or 
possible  measure  of  goodness,  can  exceed,  or  which  can 
never  be  satisfied  with  exerting  itself  in  acts  of  goodness, 
in  a  manner  suitable  to  propriety  and  rectitude. 

Here  a  proper  distinction  ought  to  be  made  between 


236  OF  VIRTUE. 

goodness  and  mercv.  Though  it  is  demonstrably  certain, 
that  the  Supreme  Being  is  infinite  in  goodness,  we  must 
not  imagine  he  is  infinite  in  mercv.  Because  we  can  sup- 
pose innumerable  cases,  in  which  mercy  to  particulars 
would  imply  a  defect  of  goodness  upon  the  whole.  In 
such  cases,  it  is  evident,  that  the  greatest  goodness,  upon 
the  whole,  will  appear  in  refusing  mercy  to  particulars; 
not  in  granting  it.  We  must  therefore  conclude,  that 
mercy  will  certainly  be  refused  to  all  such  offenders,  whom 
justice  and  goodness  to  the  whole  require  to  be  punished. 
Thus  the  divine  goodness  is  not  boundless  in  its  extent, 
but  only  regulated  in  its  exertion  by  wisdom  and  justice. 

From  the  same  necessity  for  concluding  that  the  first 
cause  must  be  uniformly,  and  in  all  consistent  respects 
infinite,  we  must  conclude,  that  he  is  possessed  of  an  in- 
finite degree  of  power;  it  being  evident,  that  power  is  a 
a  perfection,  and  preferable  to  weakness.  Infinite  power 
signifies  a  power  at  all  moments  from  eternity  to  eterni- 
ty, and  throughout  all  space,  to  produce  or  perform  what- 
ever does  not  either  in  the  nature  of  the  thing  imply  an 
express  contradiction,  as  making  something  to  be,  and 
not  to  be  at  the  same  time,  or  opposers  of  the  other  per- 
fections of  his  nature,  as  the  doing  something  unjust, 
cruel,  or  foolish.  And  indeed  all  such  things  are  properly 
impossilities.  Because  it  is  altogether  as  impossible  that 
a  Being  unchangeably  just,  good,  and  wise,  should  ever 
change  so  as  to  act  contrary  to  his  essential  character,  as 
that  a  thing  should  be  and  not  be  at  the  same  time. 

From  the  same  necessity  of  concluding  upon  the  uni- 
form and  universal  infinity  of  the  first  cause,  we  cannot 
avoid  concluding,  that  he  is  infinite  injustice  and  truth,  it 
being  self-evident,  that  truth  is  a  perfection,  and  prefera- 
ble to  falsehood.  The  divine  nature  must  be  the  very 
standard  of  truth  ;  he  must  be  entirely  master  of  the  exact 
state  of  all  things,  and  of  all  their  relations  and  connex- 
ions ;  he  must  see  the  advantage  of  acting  according  to 
the  true  state  of  things,  and  the  right  state  of  the  case, 
rather  than  according  to  any  false  or  fictitious  one ;  and 
must  perceive,  more  generally  and  universally  than  any 
creature,  that  the  consequence  of  universal  truth  must  be 
universal  order,  perfection,  and  happiness ;  and  of  uni- 


OF  VIRTUE.  237 

versal  falsehood  and  deception,  universal  misery  and  con- 
fusion. 

If  there  be  any  other  natural  or  moral  perfections,  for 
which  we  have  no  names,  and  of  which  we  have  no  ideas,  it 
is  evident,  not  only  that  they  must  be  in  the  divine  nature ; 
but  that  they  must  exist  in  Him  in  an  unlimited  degree. 
Or,  to  speak  properly,  every  possible  and  consistent  per- 
fection takes  its  origin  from  its  being  an  attribute  of  the 
Divine  Nature,  and  exists  by  the  same  original  necessity 
of  nature,  as  the  infinite  mind  itself,  the  substratum  of  all 
perfection  exists.  So  that  the  necessity  of  existence  of 
the  moral  perfections  of  the  Deity  is  the  very  same  as  that 
of  the  natural.  Try  to  annihilate  space,  or  immensity,  in 
your  mind  ;  and  you  will  find  it  impossible.  For  it  ex- 
ists necessarily ;  and  is  an  attribute  of  Deity.  Try  to 
annihilate  the  idea  of  rectitude  in  your  mind ;  and  you 
will  find  it  equally  impossible ;  the  idea  of  rectitude,  as 
somewhat  real,  will  still  return  upon  the  understanding. 
Rectitude  is  therefore  a  necessary  attribute  of  Deity ;  and 
all  the  divine  moral  attributes,  of  which  we  have  any 
ideas,  are  only  rectitude  differently  exerted.  And  the 
rectitude  of  the  Divine  Nature  is  the  proper  basis  and 
foundation  of  moral  good  in  the  disposition  or  practice  of 
every  moral  agent  in  the  universe  ;  or  in  other  words, 
virtue,  in  an  intelligent  and  free  creature,  of  whatever 
rank  in  the  scale  of  being,  is  nothing  else  than  a  conform- 
ity of  disposition  and  practice  to  the  necessary,  eternal, 
and  unchangeable  rectitude  of  the  Divine  Nature. 

Of  every  positive  simple  idea  that  can  enter  into  our 
minds,  it  may  be  said,  that  it  is  either  something  belong- 
ing to  the  Divine  Nature  (to  speak  according  to  our  im- 
perfect way)  or  it  is  a  work  of  his,  or  of  some  creature  of 
his.  We  do  not  say,  God,  made  immensity  or  space, 
duration,  or  eternity,  truth,  benevolence,  rectitude,  and 
the  rest.  But  these  are  clear,  positive,  simple  ideas  in  our 
minds.  Therefore  they  must  exist.  But  if  they  exist, 
and  yet  are  not  made  by  God,  they  must  be  necessarily 
existent.  Now  we  know,  that  nothing  exists  necessarily, 
but  what  is  an  attribute  of  Deity,  that  is,  one  of  our  im- 
perfect and  partial  conceptions  of  his  infinite  nature, 
which  engrosses  and  swallows  up  all  possible  perfections. 

Though  we  have  here  treated  of  the  perfections  of  the 


238  OF  VIRTUE 

first  cause  separately,  and  one  after  the  other,  we  are  not  tu 
form  to  ourselves  an  idea  of  the  Supreme  Being,  as  con- 
sisting  of  separable  or  discerptible  parts,  to  be  conceived 
of  singly,  and  independently  on  one  another.  In  treating  of 
the  human  mind,  we  say  it  consists  of  the  faculties  of  un- 
derstanding, will,  memory,  and  so  forth.  But  this  evi- 
dently conveys  a  false  idea  of  the  mind.  It  is  the  whole 
mind  that  understands,  wills,  loves,  hates,  remembers, 
sees,  hears,  and  feels,  and  performs  all  the  other  functions 
of  a  living  agent.  And  to  conceive  of  its  faculties  as  sepa- 
rable from  or  independent  on  one  another,  is  forming  a 
very  absurd  notion  of  mind  which  cannot  be  considered  as 
consisting  of  parts,  or  as  capable  of  division.  When  we 
say  whatever  is  an  attribute  of  Deity  is  a  Deity  itself, 
which  is  demonstrably  true,  we  ought  to  understand  it  in 
the  same  manner  as  when  we  say,  that  whatever  is  a  faculty 
of  the  human  mind  is  the  mind  itself.  Thus,  through 
immensity  alone,  truth  alone,  infinite  power  or  wisdom 
alone,  though  no  one  of  these  perfections  alone  is  the  full 
and  complete  idea  of  Deity,  any  more  than  understanding 
alone,  will  alone,  or  memory  alone,  is  of  the  human  mind, 
yet  all  the  first,  together  with  the  other  attributes,  as  they 
subsist  in  the  Divine  mind,  are  Deity,  and  all  the  latter, 
with  the  other  mental  powers,  are  the  human  mind,,  and  yet 
neither  the  former  nor  the  latter  can  be  conceived  of  as 
divisible  or  made  up  of  parts. 

As  the  necessary  existence  and  absolute  perfection  of 
God  render  it  proper  and  reasonable  to  ascribe  to  him  the 
creation  of  the  universe ;  so  his  omnipresence,  infinite 
power,  and  wisdom,  make  it  reasonable  to  conclude  that  he 
can,  with  the  utmost  facility,  without  interruption,  for  in- 
finite ages,  conduct  and  govern  both  the  natural  and  moral 
world.  Though  the  doctrine  of  providence  is  found  in 
the  writings  of  the  wise  heathens,  and  is  therefore  com- 
monly considered  as  a  point  of  natural  religion  :  yet,  as 
revelation  only  sets  it  in  a  clear  and  satisfactory  light*  I 
shall  put  off  what  I  have  to  say  upon  it  to  the  fourth  book. 

Our  being  utterly  incapable  of  forming  any  shadow  of 
an  idea  adequate  to  the  true  nature  and  essence  of  the  Su- 
preme Being,  is  no  more  an  objection  against  the  certainty 
of  his  existence,  than  the  impossibility  of  our  conceiving 
of  infinite  beginningless  duration,   is  against  its  reality. 


OF  VIRTUE.  239 

What  our  reason  compels  us  to  admit,  must  not  be  reject- 
ed, because  too  big  for  our  narrow  minds  to  comprehend, 
nor  indeed  can  we  reject  it,  if  we  would. 

Let  us  therefore  do  our  utmost  to  conceive  of  the  Su- 
preme Being,  as  the  one  independent,  necessarily  existent, 
unchangeable,  eternal,  immense,  and  universal  mind,  the 
foundation,  or  substratum  of  infinite  space,  duration,  pow- 
er, wisdom,  goodness,  justice,  and  every  other  possible 
perfection;  without  beginning,  without  end,  without  parts, 
bounds,  limits,  or  defects;  the  cause  of  all  things,  himself 
uncaused;  the  preserver  of  all  things,  himself  depending 
on  no  one  ;  the  upholder  of  all  things,  himself  upheld  by 
no  one ;  from  all  moments  of  eternity,  to  all  moments  of 
eternity ;  enjoying  the  perfection  of  happiness,  without 
the  possibility  of  addition  or  diminution  ;  before  all,  above 
all,  and  in  all ;  possessing  eternity  and  immensity,  so  as 
to  be  at  once  and  for  ever  fully  master  of  every  point  of 
the  one,  and  moment  of  the  other,  pervading  all  matter, 
but  unaffected  by  all  matter  ;  bestowing  happiness  on  all, 
without  receiving  from  any  ;  pouring  forth  without  mea- 
sure his  good  gifts,  but  never  diminishing  his  riches  :  let 
us  in  a  word  think  of  him  as  the  All,  the  Whole,  the  Per- 
fection of  Perfection. 

While  we  view  his  adorable  excellences  accordingtoour 
limited  and  partial  manner,  let  us  take  care  not  to  conceive 
of  him  as  made  up  of  parts,  who  is  the  most  perfect  unity. 
While  we  consider,  in  succession,  his  several  attributes 
of  power,  wisdom,  goodness,  and  the  rest,  let  us  take  care 
not  to  form  a  complex  or  compounded  idea  of  him,  whose 
essence  is  absolutely  pure  and  simple.  We  are  not  to  think 
of  various  attributes  and  then  superadd  the  idea  of  God 
to  them.  The  perfection  or  abstract  of  wisdom,  power, 
goodness,  and  every  other  attribute,  in  one  simple  idea, 
in  the  one  Universal  Mind,  which  fills  infinitude,  is  the 
most  perfect  idea  we  can  form  of  incomprehensible  Deity. 

Here  is  a  Deity  truly  worthy  to  be  adored  !  What  are 
the  Jupiter s  and  Junos  of  the  heathens  to  such  a  God  ? 
What  is  the  common  notion  of  the  object  of  worship  ;  a 
venerable  personage  sitting  in  heaven,  and  looking  down 
upon  the  world  below  with  a  very  acute  and  penetrating  eye 
(whicli  I  doubt  is  the  general  notion  among  the  unthink- 
ing part  of  christians)  what  is  such  a  God  to  the  immense 
and  unlimited  nature  we  have  been  considering ! 


240  OF  VIRTUE. 


SECTION  II. 

An  Idea  of  the  Divine  Scheme  in  Creation.  The  happi- 
ness of  conscious  Beings,  the  only  End  for  which  they 
were  brought  into  Existence.  Happiness,  its  founda- 
tion. Universal  Concurrence  of  all  Beings,  with  the 
Divine  Scheme  absolutely  necessary  to  universal  Hap- 
piness. 

SO  far  we  have  gone  upon  a  rational  foundation  in  estab- 
lishing the  existence  of  God,  and  his  being  possessed  of 
all  possible  perfections.  From  the  absolute  and  unchange- 
able perfection  and  happiness  of  God,  it  appears,  as  ob- 
served above,  that  his  design,  in  creating,  must  have  been, 
in  consistency  with  wisdom  and  rectitude,  to  produce  and 
communicate  happiness.  This  must  be  kept  in  view 
throuo-hout  the  whole  of  the  scheme.  When  we  think  of 
the  Creator  as  laying  the  plan  of  his  universe,  we  must 
endeavour  to  enlarge  our  ideas  so,  as  to  conceive  properly 
of  what  would  be  worthy  of  an  infinitely  capacious  and 
perfect  mind,  to  project.  No  partial,  unconnected,  or  incon- 
sistent design  would  have  suited  Infinite  Wisdom.  The 
work  of  a  God  must  be  great,  uniform,  and  perfect.  It 
must,  in  one  word,  be  an  Universe. 

In  such  a  plan,  where  all  was  to  be  full,  and  no  void,  or 
chasm,  it  is  evident,  there  must  be  an  extensive  variety, 
and  innumerable  different  degrees  of  excellence  and  per- 
fection in  things  animate  and  inanimate,  suitable  to  the 
respective  places  to  be  filled  by  each,  higher  or  lower, 
rising  one  above  another  by  a  just  and  easy  gradation. — 
This  we  can  accordingly  trace  in  the  small  part  of  the  scale 
of  being,  which  our  observation  takes  in.  From  crude, 
unprepared  dust,  or  earth,  we  proceed  to  various  strata 
impregnated  with  some  higher  qualities.  From  thence 
to  pebbles,  and  other  fossil  substances,  which  seem  to  be 
endowed  With  a  sort  of  vegetative  principle.  Next  we  pro- 
ceed from  the  lowest  and  simplest  of  vegetables,  up  to  the 
highest  and  most  curious;  among  which  the  sensitive  plant 
seems  to  partake  of  something  like  animal  life.  As  the 
polype  and  some  other  reptiles,  seem  to  descend  a  little, 
as  if  to  meet  the  vegetable  creation.  Then  we  come  to 
animals  endowed  with  the  sense  of  feeling  and  tasting  only, 


OF  VIRTUE.  241 

as  various  shell-fish.  After  them  follow  such  as  have  more 
senses,  till  we  come  to  those  that  possess  somewhat  anal- 
ogies to  human  faculties,  as  the  faithfulness  of  dogs,  the 
generous  courage  of  the  horse,  the  sagacity  of  the  elephant, 
and  the  mischievous  low  cunning  of  the  fox  and  ape.  Sup- 
pose a  human  creature,  of  the  meanest  natural  abilities, 
from  its  birth  deprived  of  the  faculty  of  speech,  how  much 
would  it  be  superior  to  a  monkey  ?  How  much  is  a  Hot- 
tentot superior "?  From  such  a  human  mind  we  may  pro- 
ceed to  those  which  are  capable  of  the  common  arts  of  life ; 
and  from  them  onward  to  such  as  have  some  degree  of  ca- 
pacity for  some  one  branch  of  art  or  science.  Then  we 
may  go  on  to  those,  who  are  endowed  with  minds  suscep- 
tible of  various  parts  of  knowledge.  From  which  there 
are  a  great  many  degrees  of  natural  capacities,  rising  one 
above  another,  before  we  reach  such  a  divine  spirit  as  that 
of  a  Newton.  Perhaps  some  of  the  lower  orders  of  angelic 
natures  might  not  be  raised  above  him  at  a  much  greater 
distance,  than  he  was  above  some  of  his  species. 

Even  among  the  inhabitants  of  different  elements  there 
is  an  analogy  kept  up.  Various  species  of  fishes  approach 
very  nearly  to  beasts,  who  live  on  dry  land,  in  form  and 
constitution.  Several  species  unite  the  aquatic  and  ter- 
restrial characters  in  one.  The  bat  and  owl  join  the  bird 
and  beast  kinds ;  so  that  the  different  natures  run  almost 
into  another ;  but  never  meet  so  closely,  as  to  confound 
the  distinction. 

Thus,  so  far  as  we  can  trace  the  divine  plan  of  creation, 
all  is  full,  and  all  connected  !  And  we  may  reasonably 
conclude,  that  the  same  uniformity  amidst  variety  takes 
place  through  the  universal  scale  of  being  above  our  spe- 
cies, as  well  as  below  it,  in  other  worlds  as  well  as  ours. 
This  was  to  be  expected  in  an  universal  system  planned 
by  one  immense  and  all-comprehending  mind. 

Considering  the  unbounded  and  unlimited  perfections 
of  the  first  cause,  who  has  existed  from  eternity,  has  had 
an  infinite  space  to  act  in,  an  infinity  of  wisdom  to  suggest 
schemes,  and  infinite  power  to  put  those  schemes  in  exe- 
cution for  effecting  whatever  infinite  goodness  might  ex- 
cite him  to  propose  :  considering  these  things,  what  ideas 
may  we  form  of  the  actual  exertion  of  such  perfections  ; 
What  mav  thev  not  have  produced ;  what  may  thev  not 

2  H 


£42  OF  VIRTUE. 

be  every  moment  producing  ;  what  may  they  nut  product 
throughout  an  endless  eternity  !  There  is  no  determinate 
time  we  can  fix  for  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness 
to  have  begun  to  exert  themselves  in  creating,  but  what 
will  imply  an  eternity  past,  without  any  exertion  of  creat- 
ing power.  And  it  is  not  easy  to  suppose  Infinite  Good- 
ness to  have  let  an  eternity  pass  without  exerting  itself  in 
bringing  any  one  creature  into  existence.  Whither  then 
does  this  lead  us  ;  There  is  no  point  in  eternity  past,  in 
which  we  can  conceive,  that  it  would  have  been  improper 
for  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness  to  have  been  ex- 
erted. And  he,  who  from  all  eternity  has  had  power,  in  all 
probability  has  from  all  eternity  had  will  or  inclination  to 
communicate  his  goodness.  Let  us  try  to  imagine  then, 
what  may  be  the  whole  effect  of  infinite  power,  wisdom, 
and  goodness  exerted  through  an  infinite  duration  past, 
and  in  an  unbounded  space.  What  ought  to  be  the  num- 
ber of  productions  of  infinite  power,  wisdom,  and  good- 
ness, throughout  immensity  and  eternity  ?  What  may 
we  suppose  the  present  degree  of  perfection  of  beings, 
who  have  existed  from  periods  distant  from  the  present 
beyond  all  reach  of  human  numbers,  and  have  been  con- 
stantly improving  ?  What  degrees  of  knowledge,  of  power, 
of  goodness,  may  such  beings  have  by  this  time  acquired? 
Let  readers.,  who  have  accustomed  themselves  to  such 
trains  of  thinking,  pursue  these  views  to  their  full  extent. 
To  add  here  all  that  may  be  deduced  from  such  consider- 
ations, may  not  be  necessary. 

It  is  afterwards  demonstrated,  that  the  happiness  of  the* 
proper  creature  was  the  sole  view,  which  the  Divine  Wis- 
dom could  have  in  producing  an  universe.  Now,  happi- 
ness being  a  primary  or  simple  idea,  it  neither  needs,  nor 
is  capable  of  any  explanation,  or  of  being  expressed,  but 
by  some  synonymous  term,  which  likewise  communi- 
cates a  simple  idea,  as  satisfaction,  pleasure,  or  such  like. 
But  it  is  of  good  use  to  understand  what  makes  real  happi- 
ness, and  how  to  attain  it.  The  foundation  or  ground  of 
happiness,  then,  is  "  A  conscious  being's  finding  itself  in 
that  state,  and  furnished  with  all  those  advantages*,  which 
are  the  most  suitable  to  its  nature,  and  the  most  condu- 
cive to  its  improvement  and  perfection.'" 

Here  is  a  subject  for  an  angel  to  preach  upon,  and  the 


OF  VIRTUE.  243 

iv hole  human  race  to  be  his  audience.  It  is  the  very  sub- 
ject, which  the  ambassador  of  heaven  came  to  this  world 
to  treat  of,  and  explain  to  mankind. 

Happiness  is  no  imaginary  or  arbitrary  thing.  It  is 
what  it  is  by  the  unalterable  nature  of  things,  and  the  Di- 
vine Ordination.  In  treating  of  such  subjects,  it  is  com- 
mon to  speak  of  the  nature  of  things  separately  frorr 
positive  will  of  the  Supreme  Being.  To  understand  this 
matter  rightly,  it  is  necessary  to  remember,  that  in  the  na- 
ture of  things,  the  Divine  Nature  is  included,  or  rather  is 
the  foundation  of  all.  Thus  when  it  is  here  said,  that 
happiness  is  fixed  according  to  the  unalterable  nature  ol 
things,  as  well  as  determined  by  the  positive  will  of  God, 
the.  meaning  is,  that  the  Supreme  Being,  in  determining 
what  should  be  the  happiness  of  the  creature,  and  how  he 
should  attain  it,  has  acted  according  to  the  absolute  rec  • 
titude  of  his  own  nature. 

But  to  return,  no  creature  is,  or  can  be  so  formed,  as  to 
continue  steadily  and  uniformly  happy,  through  the  whole 
of  its  existence,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  in  a  state  un- 
suitable to  its  nature,  and  deprived  of  all  the  advantages 
necessary  for  its  improvement  and  perfection.  It  is  a  di- 
rect and  self-evident  impossibility,  that  such  a  creature 
should  be.  Were  the  foundation  of  happiness  dependent 
upon  the  respective  imaginations  of  different '  creatures, 
what  occasion  for  all  the  pompous  apparatus  we  know  has 
been  made  for  preparing  the  human  species  for  happiness  ? 
Had  it  been  possible,  or  consistent  with  the  Divine  per- 
fections and  nature  of  things,  that  mere  fancy  should  have 
been  a  foundation  for  happiness,  there  had  needed  no 
more  than  to  have  lulled  the  creature  into  a-pleasing  delu- 
sion, a  golden  dream,  out  of  which  he  should  never  have 
waked.  And  there  is  no  doubt,  but,  if  the  happiness  of 
our  species  and  other  rational  agents  could,  properly,  have 
been  brought  about  in  this,  or  any  other  less  laborious 
manner,  than  that  which  is  appointed,  there  is  not  the 
least  doubt,  I  say,  but  the  unbounded  wisdom  and  good- 
ness of  the  Governor  of  the  world,  who  brought  them  into 
being  on  'purpose  for  happiness,  and  cannot  but  choose 
the  easiest  and  best  ways  for  gaining  his  ends,  would 
have  brought  them  to  happiness  in  such  a  way.  But  it  is 
•evident,  that  then  man  could  not  have  been  man,  that  i\. 


OF  VIRTUE. 

an  intelligent,  free  agent ;  therefore  could  not  have  filled 
his  place  in  the  scale  of  being ;  for  as  he  stands  in  the 
place  between  angles  and  brutes,  he  must  have  been  ex- 
actly what  he  is,  or  not  have  been  at  all.  An  infinitely 
perfect  author,  if  he  creates  at  all,  will  necessarily  produce 
a  work  free  from  chasms  and  blunders.  And  to  think  of 
the  God  of  truth  as  producing  a  rational,  intelligent  crea- 
ture, whose  whole  happiness  should  be  a  deception  ;  what 
can  be  conceived  more  absurd  or  impious  ?  If  such  a  crea- 
ture is  formed  for  contemplating  truth,  could  he  likewise 
have  been  brought  into  existence,  to  be  irresistibly  led 
into  a  delusion  "?  To  what  end  a  faculty  of  reasoning,  to 
be,  by  his  very  make  and  state,  drawn  into  unavoidable 
error  ? 

Besides  all  this,  let  any  man  try  to  conceive  in  his  own 
mind  the  possibility  of  bringing  "about  a  general  and  uni- 
versal happiness  upon  any  other  footing,  than  the  concur- 
rence of  all  things,  in  one  general  and  uniform  course,  to 
rat  and  important  end  ;   let  anv  man  trv  to  conceive 

5,  I  say,  and  he  will  find  it  in  vain.     If  the  foundation 

r.niversal  happiness  be,  Even-  being's  finding  itself  in 
such  circumstances  as  best  suit's  its  nature  and  state,  is  it 
possible,  that  every  being  should  find  itself  in  those  cir- 
cumstances, if  every  being  acted  a  part  unsuitable  to  its 

are  and  state?  On  the  contrary,  a  deviation  from  that 
conduct,  which  suits  a  reasonable  nature,  is  the  very  defini- 
of  moral  evil.  And  even-  deviation  tends  to  "produce 
disorder  and  unhappiness.  And  even-  lesser  degree  of 
such  deviation  tends  to  draw  on  greater",  and  this  deviation 
into  irregularity  would  in  the  end  produce  universal  unhap- 
piness; but  that  it  is  over-ruled  by  superior  Wisdom  and 
GooA  —  So  that,  instead  of  the  sophistical  maxim, 
That  private  vices  are  public  benefits,"  we  may  establish 
one  much  more  just;  "That  thm  smallest  irregularities, 
unrestrained,  and  encouraged,  tend  to  produce  universal 
confusion  and  misen-."' 

In  consequence  of  the  above  account  of  the  true  foam 

f  happiness,    it  is  plain,  that  different  natures  will 

require  a  different  provision  for  their  happiness.  The  mere 

animal  will  want  only  what  is  necessary  -for  the  support  of 

the  individual,  and  the  species.     Whatever  is  superadded 

that,  will  be  found  superfluous  and  useless,  and  will 


OF  VIRTUE.  ^45 

go  unenjoycd  by  the  animal.  But  for  a  higher  nature, 
such  as  that  of  man,  another  sort  of  apparatus  mus;  be 
provided.  Inasmuch  as  he  partakes  of  the  animal,  as  well 
as  the  rational  nature,  it  is  plain  he  cannot  be  completely 
happv  with  a  provision  made  for  only  one  half  of  his  nature. 
He  will  therefore  need  whatever  may  be  requisite  for  the 
support  and  comfort  of  the  bod}',  as  well  as  for  the  improve- 
ment of  the  mind.  For  the  happiness  of  an  angel,  or 
other  superior  power,  a  provision  greatly  superior,  and 
more  sublime,  than  all  that  we  can  conceive,  may  be  neces- 
sary. And  the  higher  the  nature,  the  more  noble  a  hap- 
piness it  is  capable  of.  The  perfect  happiness  enjoyed 
by  the  Supreme  Being  is  the  necessary  consequence  of 
the  absolute  and  unlimited  perfection  of  his  nature. 

The  supreme  mind,  in  laving  the  plan  of  an  universe, 
must  evidently  have  proposed  a  general  scheme,  which 
should  take  in  all  the  various  orders  of  being;  a  scheme  in 
which  all,  or  as  many  as  possible  of  the  particulars  should 
come  to  happiness,  but  in  such  a  manner,  as  that  the 
happiness  of  the  whole  should  be  consistent  with  that  of 
individuals,  and  that  of  individuals  with  that  of  the  whole, 
and  with  the  nature  of  things,  or,  more  properly,  with  the 
Divine  Rectitude.  We  cannot  imagine  Infinite  Wisdom 
proposing  a  particular  scheme  for  every  individual,  when 
the  end  might  be  gained  by  a  general  one.  For,  to  gain 
various  ends  by  one  means,  is  a  proof  of  wisdom.  As, 
on  the  contrary,  to  have  recourse  to  different  means,  to 
gain  an  end,  which  might  have  been  obtained  by  one,  is 
of  weakness. 

Let  the  universal  plan  of  things  have  been  what  it  would , 
it  is  evident,  that,  in  order  to  general  and  universal  per- 
fection, it  is  absolutely  necessary,  that  in  general,  all  things 
inanimate,  animate  and  rational,  concur  in  one  design,  and 
co-operate,  in  a  regular  and  uniform  manner,  to  carry  on 
the  grand  view.  To  suppose  any  one  part  or  member  to 
be  left  out  of  the  general  scheme,  left  to  itself,  to  proceed 
at  random,  is  absurd.  The  consequence  of  such  an  error 
must  unavoidably  be,  a  confusion  in  the  grand  machinery, 
extending  as  far  as  the  sphere  of  such  a  part  or  member 
extended.  And  it  is  probable  that  no  created  being,  espe- 
cially of  the  lowest  ranks,  has  extensive  enough  views  of 
things,  to  know  exactly  the  part  it  ought  to  act,  it  is  plain. 


246  OP  VIRTUE. 

that  proper  means  and  contrivances  must  have  been  used 
by  Him  who  sees  through  the  whole,  for  keeping  those 
beings  to  their  proper  sphere,  and  bringing  them  toper- 
form  their  respective  parts,  so  as  to  concur  to  the  perfection 
and  happiness  of  the  whole.    • 

The  inanimate  is  the  low  est  part  of  the  creation,  or  the 
lowest  order  of  being.  As  it  is  of  itself  incapable  of  hap- 
piness it  it  plain  that  all  it  is  fit  for,  is  to  contribute  to  the 
happiness  of  beings  capable  of  enjoying  it.  To  make 
inanimate  matter  perform  its  part  in  the  grand  scheme, 
nothing  will  answer,  but  superior  power  or  force,  as,  by 
the  very  supposition  of  its  being  inanimate,  it  is  only 
capable  of  being  acted  upon,  not  of  acting.  So  that  every 
motion,  every  tendency  to  motion,  in  every  single  atom 
of  matter  in  tlie  universe,  must  be  affected  by  the  agency  of 
some  living  principle.  Anel  without  being  acted  by 
some  living  principle,  no  one  atom  of  matter  in  the  uni- 
verse could  have  changed  its  state  from  motion  to  rest,  or 
from  rest  to  motion  ;  but  must  have  remained  for  ever  in 
the  state  it  was  first  created  in. 

The  Supreme  Mind  being,  as  we  have  seen  universally 
present  in  every  point  of  infinite  space,  where  there  is  or 
is  not,  any  created  being,  material,  or  immaterial,  must 
be  intimately  present  to  every  atom  of  matter,  and  every 
spiritual  being,  throughout  the  universe.  His  power  is, 
as  we  have  seen,  necessarily  infinite,  or  irresistibe;  and 
his  wisdom  perfect.  It  is  therefore  evidently  no  more, 
nor  so  much,  for  a  Being,  endowed  with  such  an  ad- 
vantageous superiority  over  the  material  creation,  to 
actuate  the  vast  universe,  as  for  a  man  to  move  his  finger 
or  eye-lid.  His  presence  extending  through  infinitude, 
puts  every  atom  of  matter  in  the  universe  within  his  reach. 
His  power  being  irresistible,  enables  him  to  wield  the  most 
enormous  masses,  as  whole  planets  at  once,  with  any 
degree  of  rapidity,  with  as  little  difficulty,  or  rather  infi- 
nitely less,  than  a  man  can  the  lightest  ball.  And  his 
wisdom  being  absolutely  perfect,  he  cannot  but  know  ex- 
actly in  what  manner  to  direct,  regulate,  and  actuate  the 
whole  material  machine  of  the  world,  so  as  it  may  the  best 
answer  his  various,  wise,  and  noble  purposes.  And  it  is 
certain,  that  all  the  motions  and  revolutions,  all  the  ten- 
dencies and  inclinations,  as  they  are  commonlv,  for  wart 


OF  VIRTUE.  247 

of  better  terms,  called ;  all  the  laws  of  nature,  the  cohesion 
of  bodies,  the  attraction  and  gravitation  of  planets,  efflux 
of  light  from  luminous  bodies,  with  all  the  laws  they  arc 
subject  to,  must  be  finally  resolved  into  the  action  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  or  of  beings  employed  by  him,  whatever 
intervening  instrumentality  may  be  made  use  of.  Thus 
the  inanimate  creation  is  wrought  to  the  Divine  purpose 
by  superior  power,  or  force. 

To  bring  the  animal,  irrational  natures  to  perform  their 
part  in  the  general  scheme,  it  was  necessary  to  endow 
them  with  a  fcw  strong  and  powerful  inclinations,  or  ap- 
petites, which  should  from  time  to  time  solicit  them  to 
ease  the  pain  of  desire  by  gratifying  them ;  and  to  give 
them  capacity  enough  to  consult  their  own  preservation 
by  means  fit  for  the  purpose,  which  are  easily  found.  Be- 
sides instinct,  they  seem  to  be  endowed  with  a  kind  of 
faculty  in  some  measure  analogous  to  our  reason,  which 
restrains  and  regulates  instinct,  so  that  we  observe,  they 
show  something  like  thought  and  sagacity  in  their  pur- 
suit of  their  gratifications,  and  even  show  some  traces  of 
reflection,  gratitude,  faithfulness,  and  the  like.  Their  ap- 
prehensions being  but  weak,  and  their  sphere  of  action 
narrow,  they  have  it  not  generally  in  their  power,  as  crea- 
tures of  superior  capacities,  and  endowed  with  extensive 
liberty,  to  go  out  of  the  tract  prescribed  them,  and  run 
into  irregularity.  By  these  means,  the  brute  creatures 
are  worked  to  the  Divine  purpose,  and  made  to  fill  their 
subordinate  sphere,  and  contribute,  as  far  as  that  ex- 
tends, to  the  regularity,  perfection  and  happiness  of  the 
whole. 

We  come  now  to  what  we  reckon  the  third  rank  of  be- 
ing, the  rational  creation :  which  must  likewise,  accord- 
ing to  the  Divine  scheme,  concur  with  the  other  partsr 
and  contribute  in  their  sphere  to  the  perfection  and  happi- 
ness of  the  universal  system. 

The  rational  world  being  the  part  the  most  necessary, 
and  of  the  greatest  importance,  as  their  happiness  was  the 
principal  view  the  Supreme  Being  must  have  had  in  the  crea- 
tion, their  concurrence  is  what  can  the  least  be  dispensed 
with.  Should  the  whole  material  system  run  to  ruin  : 
should  suns  be  lost  in  eternal  darkness  ;  planets  and  com- 
ets rush  out  on  all  sides  into  the  infinite  expanse,  or  the 


248  OF  VIRTUE. 

fixed  stars  leave  their  stations,  and  dash  against  one  an- 
other ;  and  should  an  universal  sentence  of  annihilation 
be  passed  upon  the  animal  world  ;  the  destruction  of  both 
the  inanimate  and  animal  creation  would  not  be  so  great  a 
disturbance  of  the  Divine  scheme,  would  not  be  such  an 
important  breach  of  the  general  order  and  regularity  neces- 
sary to  universal  perfection  and  happiness,  as  a  general 
defect  of  concurrence  or  irregularity  and  opposition,  in 
the  rational  world,  for  whose  happiness,  the  inferior  crea- 
tion was  brought  into  being,  and  whose  happiness,  should 
it  totally  miscarry,  the  Divine  scheme  must  be  totallv  de- 
feated. 


SECTION  III. 
Of  the  Nature  of  Man,  and  Immortality  of  the  Soul, 

IN  order  to  understand  what  it  is  for  our  species  to  con- 
cur, in  a  proper  manner,  with  the  Divine  scheme,  and  to 
observe  what  wise  means  have  been  contrived  by  the  Di- 
vine wisdom  and  goodness  for  bringing  us  to  the  requisite 
concurrence  in  consistence  with  our  nature  and  state,  it 
will  be  necessary  to  consider  a  little  the  human  nature  and 
character. 

It  is  commonly  said,  that  we  understand  matter  better 
than  spirit ;  that  we  know  less  of  our  souls  than  of  our 
bodies.  But  this  is  only  a  vulgar  error.  And  the  truth 
is,  that  we  know  nothing  of  the  internal  substance  of  either 
one  or  the  other.  But  we  know  enough  of  the  properties 
and  state  of  both,  to  know  how  to  seek  the  good  of  both, 
would  we  but  act  according  to  our  knowledge. 

That  which  raises  the  human  make  above  the  brute 
creatures,  is  our  having  capacities,  which  enable  us  to  lake 
more  extensive  views,  and  penetrate  farther  into  the  na- 
tures and  connexions  of  things,  than  inferior  creatures  ; 
our  having  a  faculty  of  abstract  reflexions  ;  so  that  we  can 
at  pleasure,  call  up  to  our  minds  any  subject  we  have 
formerly  known,  which,  for  aught  that  appears,  the  infer- 
ior creatures  cannot  do,  nor  excite  in  themselves  the  idea 
of  an  absent  object,  but  what  their  senses,  cither  directlv 
or  indirectly,  recai  to  their  memory  ;  and  lastly,  that  we 
nre  naturally,  till  we  come  to  be  debauched,  more  masters 


OF  VIRTUE.  249 

o£  our  passions  and  appetites,  or  more  free  to  choose  and 
refuse,  than  the  inferior  creatures. 

It  is  impossible  to  put  together  any  consistent  theory  of 
our  nature,  or  state,  without  taking  in  the  thought  of  our 
being  intended  for  immortality.  If  we  attempt  to  think 
of  our  existence  as  terminating  with  this  life,  all  is  ab- 
rupt, confused,  and  unaccountable.  But  when  the  pres- 
ent is  considered  as  a  state  of  discipline,  and  introduction 
to  endless  improvement  hereafter ;  though  we  cannot  say, 
that  we  see  through  the  whole  scheme,  we  yet  see  so 
much  of  wisdom  and  design,  as  to  lead  us  to  conclude 
with  reason,  that  the  whole  is  contrived  in  the  most  proper 
manner  for  gaining  the  important  end  of  preparing  us  for 
immortal  happiness  and  glory. 

And  that  it  is  reasonable  to  believe  our  species  formed 
for  immortality,  will  appear  first,  by  considering  the  na- 
ture of  the  mind  itself,  which  is  indeed,  properly  speak- 
ing, the  being ;  for  the  body  is  only  a  system  of  matter 
inhabited  and  actuated  by  the  living  spirit. 

That  the  mind  may,  in  a  dependence  upon  the  infinite 
Author  of  life  and  being,  continue  to  exist  after  the  dis- 
solution of  the  body,  there  is  no  reason  to  question.  For 
individuality  and  indiscerpibility  being  inseparable  proper- 
ties of  mind,  it  is  plain  that  a  mind  can  die  only  by  anni- 
hilation. But  no  one  can  show  that  there  is  any  connexion 
between  death  and  annihilation.  On  the  contrary,  the  mor- 
tal body  itself  is  certainly  not  annihilated  at  death,  nor  any 
way  altered  in  its  essence,  only  its  condition  and  circum- 
stances are  not  the  same  as  when  animated  by  the  living- 
principle  which  is  also  the  case  of  the  mind.  But  if  the 
mind  be  a  principle  originally  capable  of  thought  and  self- 
motion  by  its  own  nature ;  it  follows,  that  it  may  for  any  thing 
we  know,  think  and  act  in  one  state  as  well  as  another  ;  in  a 
future  as  well  as  in  the  present.  If  it  were  possible  to  con- 
ceive of  a  material,  thinking,  and  self-moving  principle, 
which  is  a  flat  contradiction,  inactivity  being  inseparable 
from  the  idea  of  matter ;  yet  it  would  not  thence  follow, 
that  the  thinking  principle  must  lose  its  existence  at  the 
dissolution  of  the  gross  body.  The  moral  proofs  for  the 
future  existence  of  the  human  species  would  still  remain  in 
force,  whether  we  were  considered  as  embodied  spirits, 
or  as  mere  bodv.     Nor  is  there  anv  contradiction  in  the 

2   T 


J50  C>F  VIRTUE. 

idea  of  an  immortal  bod}',  any  more  than  of  an  immortal 
spirit;  nor  is  any  being;  immortal,  but  by  dependence  on 
the  Divine  Supporting  Power.  Nor  dots  the  notion  of  the 
possibility  of  a  faculty  of  thinking,  superadded  to  matter, 
at  all  effect  'the  point  in  question.  Though  it  is  certain, 
that  a  pretended  system  of  matter  w  ith  a  thinking  faculty, 
must  either  be  nothing  more  than  matter  animated  by  spirit 
or  a  substance  of  a  quite  opposite  nature  to  all  that  we  call 
matter,  about  which  we  cannot  reason,  having  no  ideas  of 
it.  Farther,  we  have  reason  to  conclude,  that  the  body 
depends  on  the  mind  for  life  and  motion  ;  not  the  mind 
on  the  body.  We  find,  that  the  mind  is  not  impaired  by 
the  loss  of  whole  limbs  of  the  body  ;  that  the  mind  is  often 
very  active,  when  the  body  is  at  rest;  that  the  mind  cor- 
rects the  errors  presented  to  it  through  the  senses ;  that 
even  in  the  decay,  disorder,  or  total  suspension,  of  the 
senses,  the  mind  is  affected  just  as  she  might  be  expect- 
ed to  be,  when  obliged  to  use  outward  instruments,  and 
to  have  wrong  representations,  and  false  impressions,  forc- 
ed upon  her,  or  when  deprived  of  all  traces,  and  quite  put 
out  of  her  element.  For,  the  case  of  persons  intoxicated 
with  liquor,  or  in  a  dream,  or  raving  in  a  fever,  or  distract- 
ed, all  which  have  a  resemblance  to  one  another,  may  be 
conceived  of  in  the  following  manner.  The  mind,  or 
thinking  being,  which  at  present  receives  impressions  only 
by  means  of  the  material  organ  of  the  brain,  and  the  senses 
through  which  intelligence  is  communicated  into  the  brain  ; 
the  mind,  I  say ,  being  at  present  confined  to  act  only  within 
the  dark  cell  of  the  brain,  and  to  receive  very  lively  im- 
pressions from  it,  which  is  a  consequence  of  a  law  of  nature, 
to  us  inexplicable ;  may  be  exactly  in  the  same  manner 
affected  by  the  impressions  made  on  the  brain  by  a  disease, 
or  other  accidental  cause,  as  if  they  were  made  by  some- 
real  external  object.  For  example,  if  in  a  violent  fever, 
or  a  frenzy,  the  same  impressions  be,  by  a  preternatural 
flow  of  the  animal  spirits,  made-  on  .he  retina  of  the  eye, 
as  would  be  made  if  the  person  was  to  be  in  a  field  of  bat- 
tle, where  two  armies  were  engaged ;  and  if  at  the  same 
time  it  happened,  that  by  the  same  means  the  same  im- 
pressions should  be  made  on  the  auditory  nerve,  as  would 
be  made  if  the  person  were  within  hearing  of  the  noise  of 
drums,  the  clangour  of  trumpets,  and  the  shouts  of  men  ; 


OF  VIRTUE.  251 

how  should  the  spiritual  being,  immured  as  she  is  in  her 
dark  cell,  and  unused  to  such  a  deception  as  this,  how 
should  we  know  it  was  a  deception  any  more  than  an  Indian, 
who  had  never  seen  a  picture,  could  find  at  the  first  view, 
that  the  canvass  was  really  flat,  though  it  appeared  to  ex- 
hibit a  landscape  of  several  miles  in  extent?  It  is  there- 
fore conceivable  that  the  mind  may  be  strongly  and  forc- 
ibly affected  by  a  material  system,  without  being  itself  ma- 
terial. And  that  the  mind  is  not  material,  appears  farther, 
in  that  she  abstracts  herself  from  the  body,  when  she  would 
apply  most  closely  to  thought ;  that  the  soul  is  capable  of 
purely  abstract  ideas,  as  of  rectitude,  order,  virtue,  vice, 
and  the  like  ;  to  which  matter  furnishes  no  archetype,  nor 
has  any  connexion  with  them ;  that  it  is  affected  by  what 
is  confessedly  not  matter,  as  the  sense  of  words  heard,  or 
read  in  books,  which  if  it  were  material  it  could  not  be  : 
which  shows  our  minds  to  be  quite  different  beings  from 
the  body,  and  naturally  independent  on  it ;  that  we  can 
conceive  of  matter  in  a  way,  which  we  cannot  of  spirit, 
and  contrariwise ;  matter  being  still  to  be,  without  any 
contradiction,  conceived  of  asdivisible  and  inactive;  where- 
as it  is  impossible  to  apply  those  ideas  to  spirit,  without 
a  direct  absurdity,  which  shows,  that  the  mind  is  the  same, 
conscious,  indivisible,  identical  being,  though  the  body 
is  subject  to  continual  change,  addition,  and  diminution ; 
that  the  mind  continues  to  improve  in  the  most  noble  and 
valuable  accomplishments,  when  the  body  is  going  fast  to 
decay  ;  that,  even  the  moment  before  the  dissolution  of 
the  body,  the  vigour  of  the  mind  seems  often  wholly 
unimpaired ;  that  the  interests  of  the  mind  and  body  are 
always  different,  and  often  opposite,  as  in  the  case  of  being- 
obliged  to  give  up  life  for  truth.  These  considerations, 
attended  to  duly,  show,  that  we  have  no  reason  to  ques- 
tion the  possibility  of  the  living  principle's  subsisting  after 
the  dissolution  of  the  material  vehicle. 

As  to  the  difficulty  arising  from  the  consideration  of  the 
close  connexion  between  the  body  and  soul,  and  the  im- 
pressions made  by  the  one  upon  the  other,  which  has  led 
some  to  question  whether  they  are  in  reality  at  all  distinct 
beings,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  this  connexion,  which 
is  absolutely  necessary  in  the  present  state,  is  wholly 
owing  to  the  divine  disposal,  and  not  to  any  likeness, 


^52  OF  VIRTUE. 

much  less  sameness,  of  the  thinking,  intelligent  agent  with 
the  gross  corporeal  vehicle.  If  it  had  so  pleased  the  Au- 
thor of  our  being,  he  could  have  fixed  such  a  natural  con- 
nexion between  our  minds  and  the  moon,  or  planets,  that 
their  various  revolutions  and  aspects  might  have  affected 
us  in  the  same  manner,  as  now  the  health  or  disorder  of  our 
bodies  does.  But  this  would  not  have  the  moon  and 
planets  a  part  of  us.  No  more  do  the  mutual  impres- 
sions, made  reciprocally  by  the  mind  and  body,  prove  them 
to  be  the  same,  or  that  the  human  nature  is  all  body,  es- 
pecially considering  that  as  already  observed,  in  many 
cases  we  evidently  perceive  an  independency  and  differ 
ence  between  them. 

It  cannot  be  pretended  that  there  is  any  absurdity  in 
conceiving  of  the  animating  principle  as  existing  even 
before  conception  in  the  womb,  nor  of  a  new  union  com- 
mencing at  a  certain  period,  by  a  fixed  law  of  nature, 
between  it  and  a  corporeal  vehicle,  which  union  may  be 
supposed  to  continue,  according  to  certain  established  laws 
of  nature  for  a  long  course  of  years ;  and  may  be  broke, 
or  dissolved,  in  the  same  regular  manner  ;  so  that  the  sys- 
tem of  matter,  to  which  the  animating  principle  was  united, 
may  be  no  more  to  it  than  any  other  system  of  matter. 

It  is  remarkable,  that  all  living  creatures,  especially  our 
species,  on  their  first  appearance  in  life,  seem  at  a  loss,  as 
if  the  mind  was  not,  in  the  infant  state,  quite  engaged  and 
united  to  its  new  vehicle,  and,  therefore  could  not  com- 
mand and  wield  it  properly.  Sleep,  infirm  old  age,  severe 
sickness,  and  fainting,  seem  according  to  certain  estab- 
lished laws  of  nature,  partly  to  loosen  or  relax  the  union 
between  the  living  principle,  the  mind,  and  the  material 
vehicle ;  and,  as  it  were,  to  set  them  at  a  greater  distance 
from  one  another,  or  make  them  more  indifferent  to  one 
another,  as  if  (so  to  speak)  almost  beyond  the  sphere  of 
one  another's  attraction.  Death  is  nothing  more  than  the 
total  dissolution  of  this  tie,  occasioned  in  a  natural  way, 
by  some  alteration  in  the  material  frame,  not  in  the  mind  ; 
whereby  that  which  formed  the  nexus,  or  union,  whatever 
that  may  be,  is  removed  or  disengaged.  It  is  probable, 
that  the  axiety  and  distress,  under  which  the  mind  com- 
monly feels  itself  at  death,  is  owing  rather  to  the  manner 
?nd  process  of  the  dissolution,  than  to  the  dissolution 


OF  VIRTUE.  25i 

itself.  For  we  observe,  that  very  aged  persons,  and  in- 
J'ants,  often  die  without  a  struggle.  The  union  between 
soul  and  body,  being  already  weak,  is  easily  dissolved. 
And  if  sleep  be,  as  it  seems,  a  partial  dissolution  of  this 
union,  or  a  setting  the  mind  and  body  at  a  greater  distance 
from  one  another,  the  reason  why  it  gives  no  disturbance 
is,  that  it  comes  on  in  such  a  manner  as  not  forcibly  to 
tear  in  pieces,  but  gently  to  relax  the  ligatures,  whatever 
they  are,  between  the  material  and  spiritual  natures. 
That  there  is  an  analogy  between  sleep  and  death  is  evi- 
dent from  observing,  that  sleep  sometimes  goes  on  to 
death,  as  in  lethargic  cases,  and  in  the  effects  of  strong 
opiates.  And  it  is  remarkable,  that  the  life  of  a  person, 
who  has  taken  too  large  a  dose  of  opium,  cannot  be  saved 
but  by  forcibly  waking  him ;  as  if  the  mutual  action  of 
the  mind  and  body  upon  one  another  was  the  medium  of 
the  union;  and  that,  if  their  mutual  action  upon  one  ano- 
ther comes  to  be  lessened  to  a  certain  degree,  they  become 
indifFerent  to  one  another,  and  the  union  between  them 
ceases  of  course,  as  two  companions  walking  together  in  the 
dark  may  come  to  lose  one  another,  by  dropping  their 
conversation,  and  keeping  a  profound  silence. 

It  is  probable,  that  the  condition  in  which  the  mind,  just 
disengaged  from  the  body,  feels  itself,  is  very  much  like 
to  that  of  dreaming;  all  confusion,  uncertainty,  and 
incoherence  of  ideas;  and  that,  in  some  measure,  like  the 
infant  mind  newly  entered  upon  a  state  wholly  unknown, 
it  finds  itself  greatly  at  a  loss,  and  exert  itself  with  much 
difficulty  and  disadvantage;  till  a  little  time  and  habit 
qualifies  it  for  a  new  and  untried  scene  of  action.* 

If  the  true  account  of  the  human  nature  be,  that  the  spir- 
itual, active,  thinking  principle  is  united  to  a  subtile  cthe- 
rial  vehicle,  whose  residence  is  in  the  brain,  and  the  death 
is  the  departure  of  the  soul  and  spirit  from  the  body ;  which 

*  The  author  is  not  ashamed  to  confess,  that  he  now  thinks  his  former  opin- 
ion concerning1  the  state  of  the  dead,  as  represented  in  these  paragraphs,  erro- 
neous ;  though  he  chooses  not  to  alter  the  text  on  that  account ;  thinking  it 
hardly  fair  to  lessen  the  value  of  former  editions,  by  adding  to  succeeding  ones 
what  is  better  laid  before  readers  in  separate  publications.  The  author  is  now 
inclineable  to  think  Doctor  Law's  opinion,  in  his  Theory  of  Religion,  more  ra 
tional,  as  well  as  more  scriptural,  than  the  generally  received  notion  of  the 
soul's  being  in  a  full  state  of  consciousness  and  activity  between  death  and  re- 
surrection. It  is  a  point  of  mere  speculation,  no  way  materially  affecting1  either- 
faith  or  manners. 


254  OF  VIRTUE. 

was  the  notion  of  the  Platonic  Philosophers  and  Jewish 
rabbii,  and  seems  to  be  countenanced  by  the  apostle  Paul; 
ii  this  be  the  true  account  of  the  human  make,  there  is  no 
difficulty  in  conceiving  the  possibility  of  the  mind's  think- 
ing and  acting  in  a  state  of  total  separation  from  the  gross 
terrestrial  body,  notwithstanding  the  seeming  difficulty  of  a 
suspension  of  thought  in  profound  sleep,  or  in  a  fainting 
fit.  For  the  embodied  and  separate  states  are  so  very 
different,  there  is  no  reasoning  from  one  to  the  other  on 
ev^ry  point.  It  may  be  impossible  for  the  mind,  while 
imprisoned  in  the  body,  in  a  great  disorder  of  the  animal 
frame,  to  join  ideas  together,  for  want  of  its  traces  in  the 
brain,  and  other  implements  of  reasoning,  to  which  it  has 
all  along  been  accustomed,  and  which  it  cannot  do  with- 
out ;  and  vet  may  be  possible  for  the  same  mind,  when 
freed  from  its  dark  prison,  to  go  to  work  in  a  quite  differ- 
ent manner,  to  receive  impressions  immediately  from  the 
objects  themselves,  which  it  received  before  by  the  inter- 
vention of  the  senses,  and  to  contrive  for  itself  memorial 
traces,  and  the  other  necessary  apparatus  for  improvement, 
in  a  much  more  perfect  manner.  It  may  then  be  able  to 
penetrate  into  the  internal  substance,  and  examine  the 
minute  arrangement  of  the  smallest  corpuscles  of  all  kinds 
of  material  systems.  By  applying  its  ductile  and  de- 
licate vehicle,  which  may  be  considered  as  all  sensation, 
all  eye,  all  ears,  and  touch,  it  may  accurately  take  off,  not 
only  the  real  form,  but  the  internal  nature  and  state  of 
th.ngs,  with  all  their  properties,  and  present  them  to  the 
immediate  intuition  of  the  perceptive  principle,  just  as 
they  are  in  themselves  ;  whereas  at  present  the  mind  appre- 
hends things  only  as  the  dull  and  imperfect  bodily  senses 
exhibit  them  to  it.  It  may  be  able  to  contract  itself  to 
the  examination  of  the  internal  structure  of  the  body  of  the 
minutest  animalcule;  and  it  may,  as  it  goes  onto  improve 
and  enlarge  its  powers,  come  to  such  a  perfection,  as  to 
diffuse  its  actual  presence  and  intelligence  over  a  kingdom, 
or  round  the  whole  globe,  so  as  to  perceive  all  that  passes 
in  every  spot  on  the  face  of  it.  It  may  enter  into,  and 
examine  the  sublime  ideas  which  are  treasured  up  in  the 
mind  of  an  angel,  and  as  now,  by  perusing  a  book,  it  ac- 
quires new  views,  and  by  slow  degrees  perfect  those  it  had 
before  acquired ;  so  it  may  hereafter  attain  such  a  capacity 


OF  VIRTUE.  255 

of  comprehension,  as  to  be  able  to  take  off  at  one  intuition 
a  whole  new  science.  Thus  new  powers  and  faculties, 
for  which  we  have  at  present  no  names,  may  be  forever 
springing  up  in  the  mind,  which  will  ever  find  new  employ- 
ment in  examining  and  inquiring  into  truth.  For  the 
object  of  the  mind  is  infinite. 

That  our  species  should  have  another  state  to  enter 
upon,  wholly  different  from  the  present,  is  so  far  from  be- 
ing unreasonable  to  expect,  that  it  is  analogous  to  the 
whole  scheme  of  Nature.  For  there  is  no  species,  as  far 
we  know,  that  do  not  live  in  different  successive  states. 
But  to  instance  only  the  insect  tribe,  many  of  that  species, 
besides  their  animalcule  state,  before  they  be  propagated 
from  the  male,  in  which  they  differ  in  nothing  from  the 
whole  animal  creation,  appear  first  as  eggs,  and  afterwards 
as  living  reptiles,  capable  of  motion  and  feeding ;  then 
they  enter  upon  their  nymph  or  aurelia  state,  and  con- 
tinue for  several  months  as  it  were  coffined  up  in  their 
slough  and  totally  insensible.  At  last  they  burst  their 
prison,  expand  their  wings,  and  fly  away  in  the  shape  of 
butterflies,  dragonflies,  or  other  winged  insects,  according 
to  their  several  species.  This  succession  of  states,  of 
which  the  last  is  the  most  perfect,  has  been  considered  as 
emblematical  of  our  mortal  life,  our  intermediate  state, 
and  resurrection  to  immortality. 

But  the  most  irrefragable  proofs  for  the  future  immor- 
tality of  the  human  species,  separate  from  those  which 
revelation  yields,  are  taken  from  the  consideration  of  the 
perfections  of  the  Maker  and  Governor  of  the  world,  who 
designs  all  his  works  according  to  infinite  wisdom  and 
goodness,  and  according  to  the  true  state  of  things.  No 
one  can  suppose  that  a  God  of  truth  would  have  allowed 
that  a  whole  order  of  rational  creatures  should,  by  any 
means  whatever,  be  misled  into  an  universal  persuasion 
of  a  state  for  which  thev  never  were  intended.  For  it  is  evi- 
dent,  that  if  we  are  not  formed  for  a  future  immortal  state. 
we  can  have  no  more  concern  with  any  thing  beyond 
death,  than  with  the  world  in  the  moon,  and  consequently, 
our  whole  business  being  with  the  present  life,  it  is  not  to 
be  supposed,  that  our  infinitely  wise  Creator  would  have 
suffered  our  attention  to  have  been  taken  off  from  it,  by 
our  being  led  into  the  notion  of  any  other ;  much  less 


256  -  OF  VIRTUE 

that  our  whole  species  should  be  irresistibly  possessed 
with  the  same  useless  and  hurtful  delusion  :  nor  that  he 
Avould  have  universally  impressed  their  minds  with  a  false 
notion  of  an  account  to  be  hereafter  given  of  all  their 
thoughts,  words,  and  actions.     Had  he  wanted  them  to 
conform  themselves  to  his  general  scheme  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world,  he  could  have  brought  that  about,  and 
certainly  would,  by  any  other  means,  rather  than  by  suf- 
fering them  to  be  misled  into  a  series  of  groundless  ima- 
ginations and  delusions.     Nor  would  the  infinitely-wise 
Creator  have  given  us  these  vast   and   insatiate  desires 
after  endless  improvement  in  knowledge,  this  reach  of 
thought,  which  expatiates  through  creation,  and  extends 
itself  beyond  the  limits  of  the  universe  ;  nor  would  he  have 
fired  our  souls  with  the  prospect  of  an  endless  existence 
for  carrying  on  those  improvements,  only  to  curse  us  with 
a  cruel  disappointment.     Nor  would  he  have  made  the. 
human  soul  for  himself;  fixed  its  desires  and  wishes  upon 
the  enjoyment  of  his  own  perfections  ;  drawn  and  engaged 
it  to  love,  admire,  and  breathe  after  the  fruition  of  him  ; 
raised  it  to  this  lofty  height  of  ambition  only  to  throw  it 
down,  baffled  and  disappointed,  into  a  state  of  insensibility 
and  annihilation.     Nor  would  he  have  formed  the  mind 
with  a  capacity  for  continual  advances  in  goodness,   and 
nearer  approaches  to  himself,  only  to  give  us  an  oppor- 
tunity of  fitting  ourselves  for  a  future  state  of  perfection 
and   happiness,  to  which,  according  as  we  approached 
nearer  and  nearer,  we  should  approach  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the   total  disappointment  of  all  our   labours  and  all  our 
hopes,  and  find  the  whole  at  last  to  have  been  no  other 
than  a  golden  dream. 

The  only  reason  why  any  one  has  recourse  to  artifice 
and  deceit,  is,  that  he  has  not  sagacity  enough  to  gain  his 
ends  by  proceeding  in  a  fair  and  open  manner.  Whoever 
is  master  of  his  scheme,  has  no  need  of  tricks  and  arts  to 
compass  his  designs.  And  who  will  dare  to  affirm,  that 
Infinite  Wisdom  had  no  way  of  bringing  about  his  import- 
ant designs  for  the  good  of  his  universe,  but  by  deluding 
his  reasonable  creatures,  or  suffering  them  to  be  univer- 
sally deluded,  which  is  the  same,  into  the  belief  of  a  future 
Utopia  ?  We  know  of  nothing  in  nature  analogous  to 
this.     Whatever  our  species,  or  any  other,  are  liable  to  be 


OF  VIRTUE.  257 

mistaken"  in,  is  owing  to  the  mere  imperfection  of  sense 
and  understanding,  unavoidably  in  beings  of  inferior  rank: 
but  we  have  no  idea  of  a  whole  species  irresistibly  led  into 
a  positive  error,  especially  of  such  consequences  as  that  of 
the  expectation  of  a  future  state,  if  it  were  an  error*  And 
here  it  is  highly  worthy  of  remark,  that  it  is  not  the  weak, 
the  short-sighted,  and  the  ignorant  part  of  the  human  kind, 
that  are  most  inclinable  to  the  persuasion  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul,  as  might  have  been  expected  were  it  an 
error ;  but  quite  otherwise.  While  the  most  sordid,  de- 
generate, and  barbarous  of  the  species  have  overlooked, 
or  not  been  sufficiently  persuaded  of  it ;  the  wisest  and 
greatest  of  mankind  have  been  believers  and  teachers  of 
this  important  doctrine  ;  which  shows  it  in  a  light  wholly 
unaccountable,  if  it  be  supposed  an  error. 

The  irregular  distribution  of  happiness  and  misery  in 
the  present  state  renders  it  highly  probable,  that  this  is  only 
a  part,  not  the  whole  of  the  Divine  oeconomy  with  respect 
to  our  species. 

Do  we  not  find,  that  in  the  present  state,  the  highest  de- 
gree of  goodness  is,  in  some  cases,  attended  with  the  great- 
est  unhappiness  ?  For  though  virtue  must,  in  general,  be 
owned  to  be  the  likeliest  means  for  procuring  happiness  in 
the  present,  as  well  as  future  state  ;  yet  there  are  numer- 
ous exceptions  to  this  rule.  I  appeal  to  the  experience  of 
every  man,  who  from  a  course  of  thoughtlessness  and  liber- 
tinism, has  had  the  happiness  to  be  brought  to  some  con- 
cern about  the  interests  of  futurity,  whether  he  does  not 
now  suffer  a  thousand  times  more  of  the  anguish  of  re- 
morse from  a  reflexion  of  the  least  failure,  than  he  did 
formerly  for  the  grossest  enormities.  If  so,  it  is  evident, 
that  improvement  in  virtue  brings  with  it  such  a  delicacy 
of  sentiment,  as  must  often  break  in  upon  the  tranquility 
of  the  mind,  and  produce  an  uneasiness,  to  which  the 
hardened  sinner  is  wholly  a  stranger.  So  that  in  this  in- 
stance we  see,  that  virtue  is  not  in  the  present  life  its  own 
reward,  which  infers  the  necessity  of  a  future  reward  in  a 
life  to  come. 

Nor  is  the  permission  of  persecution  or  tyranny,  by  which 
the  best  of  mankind  always  suffer  the  most  severely,  while 
•wickedness  reigns  triumphant,  at  all  reconcilable  with  the 
goodness  of  the  universal  Governor,  upon  any  footing  but 

2  K 


258  OF  VIRTUE. 

that  of  a  future  state,  wherein  the  sufferings,  to  which  the 
mere  incapacity  of  resisting,  or  the  strict  adherence  to  truth, 
has  exposed  multitudes  of  the  species,  of  the  best  of  the 
species,  shall  be  suitably  made  up  for.  When  an  Alexan- 
der, or  a  Casar,  is  let  loose  upon  his  fellow  creatures, 
when  he  pours  desolation,  like  a  deluge,  over  one  side  of 
the  globe,  and  plunges  half  the  human  species  in  a  sea  of 
their  own  blood,  what  must  be  the  whole  amount  of  the 
calamity  suffered  by  millions,  involved  in  the  various  woes 
of  war,  of  which  great  numbers  must  be  of  the  tender  sex, 
and  helpless  age  !  What  must  be  the  terror  of  those  who 
dread  the  hour  when  the  merciless  savage,  habituated  to 
scenes  of  cruelty,  will  give  orders  to  his  hellhounds  to  be- 
gin the  general  massacre  ?  What  the  carnage  when  it  is 
begun  ?  Men  slaughtered  in  heaps  in  the  streets  anel  fields  ; 
women  ravished  and  murdered  before  their  husband's  faces ; 
children  dashed  against  the  walls  in  sight  of  their  parents  ; 
cities  wrapt  in  flames ;  the  shouts  of  the  conquerors ;  the 
groans  of  the  dying  ;  the  ghastly  visages  of  the  dead  ;  uni- 
versal horror,  misery,  and  desolation.  All  to  gain  a  spot 
of  ground,  an  useless  addition  of  revenue,  or  even  the 
visionary  satisfaction  of  a  sounding  name,  to  swell  the 
pride  of  a  wretched  worm,  who  will  himself  quickly  sink 
among  the  heaps  his  fury  has  made,  himself  a  prey  to  the 
universal  leveller  of  mankind.  And  what  is  all  history 
full  of,  but  such  horrid  scenes  as  these  ?  Has  not  ambition 
or  superstition  set  mankind,  in  all  ages  and  nations,  in  arms 
against  one  another ;  turned  this  world  into  a  general 
shambles,  and  fattened  every  soil  with  slaughtered  thous- 
ands ? 

The  blood  thirsty  inquisitor,  who  has  grown  grey  in 
the  service  of  the  mother  of  abominations,  who  has  long 
made  it  his  boast,  that  none  of  her  priests  has  brought  so 
many  hundreds  of  victims  to  her  horrid  altars  as  him- 
self; the  venerable  butcher  sits  on  his  bench.  The  help- 
less innocent  is  brought  bound  from  his  dungeon,  where 
no  voice  of  comfort  is  heard,  no  friendly  eye  glances 
compassion  ;  where  damp  and  stench,  perpetual  darkness 
and  horrid  silence  reign,  except  when  broken  by  the  echo 
of  his  groans ;  where  months  and  years  have  been  lan- 
guished out  in  want  of  all  that  nature  requires  ;  an  out- 
east  from  iamily,  from  fnjpads,  from  ease  and  affluence, 


OF  VIRTUE.  259 

and  a  pleasant  habitation,  from  the  blessed  light  of  the 
world.  He  kneels;  he  weeps;  he  begs  for  pity.  He 
sues  for  mercy  by  the  love  of  God,  and  by  the  bowels  of 
humanity.  Already  cruelly  exercised  by  torture,  nature 
shudders  at  the  thought  of  repeating  the  dreadful  suffer, 
ings,  under  which  she  had  almost  sunk  before.  He  pro- 
test  his  innocence.  He  calls  heaven  to  witness  for  him  -, 
and  implores  the  Divine  power  to  touch  the  flinty  heart, 
which  all  his  cries  and  tears  cannot  move.  The  unfeeling 
monster  talks  of  heresy,  and  profanation  of  his  cursed  su- 
perstition. His  furious  zeal  for  priestly  power  and  a 
worldly  church,  stops  his  ear  against  the  melting  voice  of 
a  fellow  creature  prostrate  at  his  feet.  And  the  terror  ne- 
cessary to  be  kept  up  among  the  blinded  votaries,  renders 
cruelty  a  proper  instrument  of  religious  slavery.  The 
dumb  executioners  strip  him  of  his  rags.  The  rack  is 
prepared.  The  ropes  are  extended.  The  wheels  are  driven 
round.  The  bloody  whip  and  hissing  pincers  tear  the 
quivering  flesh  from  the  bones.  The  pullies  raise  him  to 
the  roof.  The  sinews  crack.  The  joints  are  torn  asun- 
der. The  pavement  swims  in  blood.  The  hardened 
minister  of  infernal  cruelty  sits  unmoved.  His  heart  has 
long  been  steeled  against  compassion.  He  listens  to  the 
groans,  he  views  the  strong  convulsive  pangs,  when  na- 
ture shrinks,  and  struggles,  and  agonising  pain  rages  in 
every  pore.  He  counts  the  heart-rending  shrieks  of  a  fel- 
low creature  in  torment,  and  enjoys  his  anguish  with  the 
calmness  of  one  who  views  a  philosophical  experiment ! 
The  wretched  victim  expires  before  him.  He  feels  no 
movement,  but  of  vexation  at  being  deprived  of  his  prey, 
before  he  had  sufficiently  glutted  his  hellish  fury.  He 
rises.  No  thunder  roars.  No  lightning  blasts  him.  He 
goes  on  to  fill  up  the  measure  of  his  wickedness.  He  lives 
out  his  days  in  ease  and  luxury.  He  goes  down  to  the 
grave  gorged  with  the  blood  of  the  innocent ;  nor  does 
the  earth  cast  up  again  his  cursed  carcase. 

Can  any  one  think  such  scenes  would  be  suffered  to  be 
acted  in  a  world,  at  the  head  of  which  sits  enthroned  in 
supreme  majesty  a  Being  of  infinite  goodness  and  perfect 
justice,  who  has  only  to  give  his  word,  and  such  monsters 
would  be  in  an  instant  driven  by  his  thunder  to  the  centre ; 
can  any  one  think  that  such  proceedings  would  be  suffered 


260  OF  VIRTUE. 

to  pass  unpunished,  if  there  was  not  a  li£e  to  come,  a  clay 
appointed  for  rewarding  every  man  according  to  his  works? 

Some  have  thought,  that  part  of  the  arguments  for  the 
immortality  of  the  human  soul,  being  applicable  to  infe- 
rior natures,  might  be  said  to  prove  too  much  and  there- 
for*0 to  prove  nothing.  For  that  the  unequal  allotment  of 
happiness  and  misery  among  the  brute  creatures  seems  to 
require,  that  those  who  have  suffered  unjustly  in  this  state, 
should  have  such  sufferings  compensated  to  them  in  some 
future  existence. 

This  difficulty  is  easily  got  over,  if  we  consider,  first, 
that  the  sufferings  of  the  inferior  creatures  are,  so  to  speak, 
onlv  momentary  ;  whereas  foreboding  fears  and  cutting 
reflections  increase  human  miseries  a  thousand  fold ;  which 
greatly  abates  the  necessity  of  a  future  existence  to  make 
up  for  what  they  may  have  suffered  here.  Besides,  justice 
does  not  require,  that  any  species  of  creatures  be  wholly 
exempted  from  suffering ;  but  only,  that,  upon  the  whole, 
all  creatures  have  it  in  their  power  to  be  gainers  by  their 
existence,  that  is,  that  they  have  in  their  power  a  greater 
share  of  happiness  than  misery.  If  any  one  thinks  it 
most  probable,  that  all  creatures,  once  introduced  into 
existence,  are  to  be  continued  in  being,  till  they  deserve, 
by  perverse  wickedness,  to  be  annihilated  ;  and  that,  as 
material  substances,  which  seem  to  us  to  perish,  are  only 
dissipated  into  small  invisible  parts,  so  the  spirits  of  all 
living  creatures,  at  death,  are  only  removed  into  another 
state;  if  any  one,  I  say,  thinks  he  sees  reason  to  believe 
the  immortality,  in  a  succession  of  states,  of  all  living 
creatures,  I  do  not  see  that  my  subject  obliges  me  to  con- 
fute such  an  opinion. 

Though  the  distinguishing  character  of  man  is  reason^ 
it  is  evident,  that  reason  does  not  in  general  prevail  in  the 
present  state ;  but  on  the  contrary,  vice,  and  folly,  and 
madness,  seem  to  be  most  of  what  this  world  was  made 
for,  if  it  be  the  whole  of  man.  And  surely,  such  an  econ- 
omy is  not  worthy  to  be  ascribed  to  an  infinitely  wise  Cre- 
ator. Is  it  a  design  worthy  of  infinite  Goodness  to  pro- 
duce into  being  a  species  to  be  continued  for  several  thou- 
sand years,  to  harrass  and  massacre  one  another,  and  then 
to  sink  again  into  the  earth,  and  fatten  it  with  their  carcases? 
The  Creator  can  never  be  supposed  to  have  produced  be- 


OF  VIRTUE.  261 

ings  on  purpose  for  suffering,  and  to  be  losers  by  their  exist- 
ence, without  any  fault  of  their  own.  Upon  this  footing, 
the  brute  creatures  would  have  eminently  the  advantage  of 
our  species.  But  it  is  very  improbable,  that  the  benefi- 
cent Author  of  nature  has  taken  more  care,  and  made  a 
better  provision  for  the  inferior  creatures  than  for  us.  And 
still  more  unlikely,  that  he  has  given  the  advantage  upon 
the  whole  to  the  most  worthless  part  of  our  species,  and 
exposed  the  best  of  mankind  to  unavoidable  distress  and 
hardship,  as  is  conspicuously  the  case  in  innumerable  in- 
stances in  this  world.  For  in  the  case  of  tyranny  and  perse- 
cution, it  is  evident,  that  all  that  the  good  man  has  to  sup- 
port him  under  his  cruel  sufferings,  is  the  testimony  of  his 
conscience  ;  the  persuasion  of  the  Divine  approbation ;  and 
the  hope  of  a  future  recompence  of  honour  and  happiness 
for  the  pain  and  shame  he  has  suffered  here.  But  to  say 
there  is  no  future  state  of  retribution,  is  to  say,  That  He, 
who  placed  conscience  in  the  human  breast,  did  so  for  the 
sole  purpose  of  making  the  best  of  men  the  most  unhappy  ; 
that  He,  who  most  loves,  and  best  knows  the  sincere  and 
upright,  will  show  no  favor  to  the  sincere  and  upright,  but 
the  contrary  ;  and  consequently,  that  virtue  is  something 
worse  than  an  empty  name,  being  a  real  and  substantial 
misfortune  to  its  most  faithful  votary.  To  say  the  truth, 
were  the  present  state  the  whole  of  the  human  existence, 
it  is  evident,  that  to  give  up  life  for  the  cause  of  religion, 
so  far  from  being  virtue,  the  highest  pitch  of  virtue,  would 
be  directly  vicious  ;  because  it  would  be  throwing  away 
our  existence  for  an  absolute  nothing.  Annihilate  the  real- 
ity of  a  future  state,  and  Christianity  is  a  delusion  ;  con- 
sequently not  to  be  suffered  for. 

There  is,  there  must  be,  hereafter  a  state,  in  which  the 
present  irregularities  shall  be  rectified,  and  defects  sup- 
plied ;  in  which  vice  and  folly  shall  universally,  by  estab- 
lished laws  of  the  Divine  economy,  sink  to  disgrace  and 
punishment,  and  wisdom  and  virtue  of  course,  rise  uni- 
versally triumphant,  and  prevail  throughout  the  universe. 
For  it  cannot  be  but  that  what  is  suitable  to  the  character 
of  the  universal  Governor,  should  have  the  advantage, 
upon  the  whole,  in  a  world,  of  which  he  is  the  absolute 
and  irresistible  Lord,  and  that  what  opposes  perfect  recti- 
tude, armed  with  Omnipotence,  must  sooner  or  later  be 


262  OF  VIRTUE. 

crushed  before  him.  For  he  does  in  the  armies  of  heaven, 
and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  whatever  seems  to 
him  good,  and  none  can  stay  his  hand. 

The  virtuous  and  pious  soul  has,  above  all,  such  evi- 
dence for  its  own  immortality,  as  it  cannot  doubt.  Puri- 
fied from  every  sordid  desire,  purged  from  every  dreg  of 
earth,  and  become  wholly  spiritual  and  angelic,  whose 
prospects  are  large,  whose  views  sublime,  and  whose  dis- 
position godlike;  such  a  soul  already  feels  her  own  immor- 
tality. Whilst  in  the  body,  she  is  sensible  of  her  own 
independence  upon  the  body,  and  superiority  to  it.  While 
chained  to  flesh,  and  imprisoned  in  clay,  she  feels  within 
herself  celestial  vigour,  declaring  her  noble  origin.  At- 
tracted by  the  Divine  influence,  which  in  degenerate 
spirits  is  clogged  and  overpowered  by  sensual  appe- 
tite and  sordid  passion,  she  raises  her  desires  to  that 
better  world,  for  which  she  was  formed.  She  pants 
for  liberty;  she  breathes  after  that  state  of  heavenly 
light  and  real  life,  which  suits  her  noble  powers  and 
elevated  disposition ;  she  spreads  her  impatient  wing ; 
she  plumes  herself  for  flight;  she  darts  her  angelic 
eye,  as  it  were,  athwart  eternity  ;  her  vast  imagination 
already  grasps  futurity :  she  leaves  behind,  in  thought, 
this  lessening  speck  of  matter,  and  all  its  vanities;  she 
hangs  upon  the  verge  of  time,  and  only  waits  the  power- 
ful call,  which  spoke  her  into  being,  to  seize  the  future 
world,  the  glories  of  the  resurrection,  to  leave  those  lower 
regions,  and  expatiate  at  large  through  boundless  space, 
to  view  the  immensity  of  Nature,  and  to  soar  with  choirs 
of  seraphim,  to  present  herself  before  the  eternal  throne. 

SECTION  IV. 

Reasonbleness  and  Necessity  of  the  Connexion  between 
the  Behaviour  of  moral  Agents  and  their  Happiness. 
Discipline  the  only  means  for  bringing  moral  Agents 
voluntarily  to  pursue  Virtue. 

HAVING  already  seen,  that  it  was  necessary  to  the 
very  idea  of  a  perfect  system,  that  there  should  be  a  proper 
subordination,  a  scale,  rising  by  easy  and  just  degrees,  of 
the  various  ranks   of  creatures  ;  it  Is  evident,  that  there 


OF  VIRTUE.  262 

must,  have  been  such  a  creature  as  man,  that  is,  a  species 
to  fill  the  place  which  he  posseses.  And  it  is  plain,  that  as 
his  place  is  immediately  above  the  brute,  and  below  the 
angelic  nature,  he  could  not  possibly  have  been  formed 
otherwise  than  he  is.  He  could  not  be  superior  to  the 
animal  rank,  without  having  powers  and  faculties  superior 
to  theirs.  It  is  that  which  gives  him  his  superiority  over 
them.  Nor  could  he  have  been  inferior  to  the  angelic  or- 
der of  beings,  without  falling  short  of  their  powers  and 
faculties.  It  is  the  very  thing  which  places  him  beneath 
them.  Man,  or  whatever  creature  should  have  been 
made  to  fill  up  the  chasm  between  the  angelic  and  the 
animal  natures,  must  have  been  exactly  what  we  find  our 
species  actually  is.  For  without  such  a  rank  as  man,  the 
moral  system  could  not  have  been  perfect,  consequently 
could  not  have  been  at  all :  for  it  is  impossible  that  an  ab- 
solutely perfect  author  should  produce  an  imperfect  work. 
So  that  there  is  no  room  left  to  complain,  that  by  creating 
man  in  such  a  station,  it  was  necessary  he  should  be  en- 
dowed with  nobler  powers  and  faculties  than  the  brutes, 
he  comes  to  be  put  in  a  more  elevated  and  more  precarious 
state.  It  is  true  that  very  few  of  the  brutes  are  likely  to 
fall  short  of  the  happiness  destined  for  them,  having,  as 
already  observed,  but  few  chances  of  missing  of  it,  and 
being  more  effectually  confined  to  the  track  appointed 
them,  than  it  was  proper  such  a  creature  as  man  should 
be.  But  is  not  the  immense  superiority  of  happiness  to 
which  a  human  mind  may,  with  proper  attention,  rise,  a 
very  great  overbalance  for  all  the  disadvantages  our  species 
labour  under,  were  there  a  thousand  for  one  ?  Would  any 
man,  who  had  his  choice  before  hand,  whether  he  would 
be  of  the  human  or  the  brute  species,  deliberately  choose 
the  latter,  in  which  he  knew  it  was  impossible  he  should 
ever  attain  any  considerable  degree  of  perfection  and  hap- 
piness, rather  than  the  former,  in  which  he  was  sure,  if  he 
was  not  wanting  to  himself  he  might  rise  to  greatness  and 
felicity  inconceivable  ?  Would  any  rational  creature  make 
this  absurd  choice  merely  upon  the  consideration,  that  if 
he  was  of  a  species  endowed  with  liberty,  it  was  possible 
he  might  be  so  foolish  as  to  neglect  his  own  interest,  and 
with  open  eyes  run  into  ruin  and  misery  ?  What  no  rea- 
sonable being  would  choose,  let  not  presumptuous  man 


264  OF  VIRTUE. 

blame  his  Maker  for  not  putting  in  his  choice.  If  man  is 
what  he  ought  to  be,  and  is  placed  where  he  ought  to  be, 
what  has  he  to  do  but  to  think  of  filling  his  station  with  such 
propriety  as  is  necessary  for  a  reasonable  being  to  study, 
who  is  desirous  of  attaining  his  own  perfection  and  happi- 
ness in  the  only  way  in  which  they  are  attainable  ? 
-  If  the  perfect  concurrence  of  reasonable  beings,  as  well 
as  others,  with  the  Divine  scheme,  was  necessary  to  the 
very  notion  of  a  regular  universal  system,  with  an  univer- 
sal governor  at  the  head  of  it ;  it  was  to  be  expected, 
that  the  final  happiness  of  such  beings  as  should  study  to 
conform  themselves  habitually  in  disposition  and  practice 
to  the  Divine  scheme,  should  by  the  positive  ordination 
of  the  Ruler  of  the  world  be  closely  connected  with  their 
character  and  behaviour.  And  if  it  be  impossible  to  con- 
ceive a  plan  of  universal  economy  laid  by  an  universal  and 
perfect  mind,  that  should  not  be  suitable  to  his  own  ne- 
cessary nature  and  character,  but  founded  in  mere  arbi- 
trary will ;  it  is  likewise  impossible  to  conceive  a  sys- 
tem in  which  the  habitual  conformity  of  reasonable  beings 
to  the  grand  scheme  of  the  Universal  Governor  should  not 
naturally,  and  as  it  were  of  itself,  produce  happiness.  The 
Divine  scheme  of  government  is  founded,  not  in  arbitrary- 
will;  but  in  the  eternal  and  unchangeable  rectitude  of  the 
Divine  Nature.  And  therefore  it  was  as  much  an  impos- 
sibility that  it  should  be  contrary  to  what  it  is,  or  that 
conformity  to  it  should  finally  produce  any  thing  but  hap- 
piness, or  irregularity  any  thing  but  misery  ;  as  that  the 
Divine  Nature,  which  is  necessarily  what  it  is,  should  have 
been  otherwise.  So  that,  till  the  time  comes,  when  uni- 
versal regularity  shall  have  the  same  natural  tendency  to 
promote  order,  perfection,  and  happiness,  as  universal 
conformity  to  the  scheme  of  the  universe;  when  the  Di- 
vine Will  comes  to  be  directly  contrary  to  all  the  moral 
perfections  of  his  nature,  till  impossibilities  become  pos- 
sible, and  direct  contradictions  the  same  ;  till  the  time 
comes,  when  all  these  shall  happen,  there  can  be  no  chance 
for  the  happiness  of  any  reasoning  being,  who  does  not 
study  to  conform  his  disposition  and  practice  to  the  gene- 
ral scheme  of  the  Ruler  of  the  world. 

Let  daring  impious  man  hear  this  and  tremble. 

That  there  is  a  rectitude  in  conduct,  which  is  indepen- 


OF  VIRTUE.  265 

cleat  upon  connected  happiness,  seems  so  evident,  that  one 
would  wonder  how  some  writers  have  persuaded  them- 
selves, and  laboured  to  persuade  others,  That  the  only 
good,  or  rectitude  of  an  action,  is  its  tendency  to  produce 
happiness.  After  what  I  have  said  to  show  the  natural,  as 
well  as  judicial  connexion  between  virtue  and  happiness, 
I  must  declare,  that  to  me  it  appears  evident,  That  recti- 
tude is  prior  to,  and  independent  upon,  all  tendency  to 
produce  happiness.  To  prove  this  very  briefly,  let  it  be 
proposed  to  a  person,  that  he  have  his  choice  to  perform 
some  noble  action,  such  as  delivering  his  country,  by  one 
or  two  methods,  the  former  of  which  shall  oblige  him  to 
make  use  of  a  piece  of  dissimulation,  which  shall  hurt  no 
creature,  but  if  he  chooses  the  latter,  he  may  save  his  coun- 
try without  the  least  deviation  from  truth.  Ought  a  man 
of  integrity  to  hesitate  one  moment  which  of  the  two 
methods  he  would  choose  ?  And  does  not  the  preference 
of  the  latter  to  the  former,  the  consequences  of  both  being 
the  same,  show  plainly  a  rectitude  in  mere  veracity,  inde- 
pendent of  its  producing  happiness?  Again,  were  a  trav- 
eller to  see  some  strange  sight,  which  never  had  been,  or 
could  be  seen,  by  any  other*  would  it  not  evidently  be  bet- 
ter that  he  gave  an  account  of  it  on  his  return,  exactly  in 
every  circumstance  as  it  really  was,  than  that  he  should  in 
the  smallest  circumstance  deviate  from  truth  ;  though  such 
deviation  should  have  no  kind  of  effect  upon  any  person 
in  the  world  ?  Farther,  is  it  not  certain,  beyond  all  possi- 
bility of  doubt,  that  the  Supreme  Being  acts  always  from 
the  greatest  and  best  motives,  and  according  to  the  wisest 
and  most  perfect  rules,  at  the  same  time  that  his  happiness 
is,  has  been,  and  will  be,  necessarily  at  all  moments,  from 
eternity  to  eternity,  the  same,  unchangeable*  and  abso- 
lutely perfect.  Is  the  whole  rectitude  of  created  beings 
the  pursuit  of  happiness  ?  And  is  there  no  foundation  for 
Divine  rectitude  ?  Is  it  not  rectitude  in  a  prince,  or  a 
father,  to  wish  the  happiness  of  his  people,  or  children, 
without  regard  to  his  own  happiness  ?  Is  not  benevolence 
the  more  truly  commendable  for  its  being  disinterested  ? 
Whereas,  upon  the  scheme  of  placing  the  whole  of  recti- 
tude in  pursuing  the  greatest  happiness,  it  ought  to  be 
quite  the  reverse.  Ought  not  a  good  man  to  do  what  is 
right,  rather  than  the  contrary,  if  he  were  sure,  that  himself 

2  L 


266  OF  VIRTUE, 

and  the  whole  universe  were  to  be  annihilated  the  next  mo- 
ment,  so  that  it  would  be  impossible  that  any  degree  ot 
happiness  should  be  the  consequence  ? 

There  is  plainly  an  independent  rectitude,  or  good- 
ness, in  the  conduct  of  moral  agents,  separate  from  the 
connexion  between  virtue  and  happiness.  And  this  is  the 
foundation  of  the  necessity  of  their  acting  according  to  a 
certain  fixed  course;  and  consequently  of  their  having 
laws  and  rules  promulgated  to  them  by  the  Universal 
Governor.  Nor  does  this  at  all  invalidate  the  connexion 
between  virtue  and  happiness  ;  but  on  the  contraiy,  shows 
that  there  is,  and  ought  to  be,  such  a  connexion.  And, 
generally  speaking,  there  is  no  safer  way  to  try  the  moral 
excellence  or  turpitude  of  actions,  than  by  considering  the 
natural  consequences  of  their  being  universally  practised. 
For  example,  let  it  be  supposed  a  questionable  point. 
Whether  the  murder  of  the  innocent  is  in  itself  right,  or 
otherwise.  Try  it  by  the  consequences,  which  must  follou 
the  universal  practice  of  destroying  all  the  good  and  vir- 
tuous part  of  mankind ;  and  it  immediately  appears  to  be 
so  far  from  right,  that  nothing  can  be  conceived  more  con 
trary  to  rectitude.  On  the  other  hand,  let  it  be  disputed. 
Whether  the  protection  and  preservation  of  the  innocent  be 
right.  Let  it  be  considered,  what  would  be  the  conse- 
quences of  innocence  being  universally  preserved  and 
protected ;  and  it  appears  evident  beyond  all  possibility 
of  doubt,  that  nothing  is  more  agreeable  to  rectitude. 
Rectitude,  therefore,  does  not  consist  in  the  pursuit  of  hap- 
piness ;  nor  does  the  happiness,  consequent  upon  a  certain 
course  of  conduct,  constitute  the  rectitude  of  such  con- 
duct. The  true  state  of  the  case  is,  Certain  actions  are 
first  in  themselves  right,  and  then  happiness  is  the  natural 
and  judicial  consequence  of  them. 

In  order  to  bring  mankind  to  a  complete  and  perfect 
concurrence  with  the  Universal  Scheme,  it  was  plainly 
necessary,  that  other  means  should  be  used  than  force  or 
instinct ;  the  first  of  which  was  sufficient  for  working  dead 
matter,  and  the  second,  the  animal  creation,  to  the  Divine 
purpose.  Had  man  been  only  inanimate  matter,  nothing 
more  would  have  been  necessary,  than  that  lie  should  be 
acted  upon.  Had  he  been  a  machine;  a  weight,  or  a 
spring,  would  have  been  sufficient  to  make  him  perform 


OF  VIRTUE.  267 

his  motions.     Were  there  nothing  in  man  but  the  mere 
animal  powers;  were  he   capable  of  being   wrought  to 
nothing  higher  than  the  animal  functions  ;  were  his  nature 
fit  for  no  higher  happiness,  than  those  of  eating  and  drink- 
ing, and,  after  living  a  few  years,  and  leaving  behind  him 
a  successor  to  fill  his  place,  and  continue  the  species,  to 
pass  out  of  existence  ;  were  this  the  case,  there  would  have 
needed  no  very  grand  apparatus  to  make  him  fill  his  incon- 
siderable place,  so  as  to  contribute  his  small  share  to  the 
happiness  of  the  whole,  and  to  secure  his  own  mean  por- 
tion.    But  it  is  very  much  otherwise,  as  will  immediately 
appear.     I  believe  hardly  any  one  will  deny,  that  man  (or 
however  most  of  the  species)  are  endowed  with  the  faculty 
of  understanding;  by  which,  though  weak  indeed  and  nar- 
row at  present,  our  species  are  yet  capable  of  distinguishing- 
truth  from  falsehood,  in  all  points  of  importance,  and  with 
sufficient  certainty,  as  shown  above.     Now,  in  order  to  a 
creature's  acting  properly  its  part,  and  concurring  with  the 
whole,  it  is  evidently  necessary,  that  it  make  a  proper  use 
and  application  of  every  one  of  its  faculties.     No  one  will 
pretend,  I  think,  that  the  perfection  and  happiness  of  the 
universe  would  be  as  universally  promoted  by  every  indi- 
vidual's making  a  wrong  use  of  his  faculties,  as  a  right  one ; 
but  on  the   contrary,  that  every  individual's   making  an 
improper  use  of  his  faculties  would  produce  the  most  con- 
sum'mate  disorder  and  imperfection  in  the  system,  and 
would  be  the  most  opposite  to  the  Divine  Scheme,  that 
could  be  imagined.     It  follows,  that,  if  man  is  endowed 
with  understanding,  he  is  to  be  brought  to  cultivate  and 
inform  it,  not  to  stifle  and  blind  it ;  to  endeavour  to  enlarge, 
not  to  narrow  it ;  to  apply  it  to  the  searching  out  of  useful 
and  important  truth,  not  to  mislead  it  into  the  belief  of 
falsehoods,  nor  to  employ  it  upon  objects  unworthy  of  it. 
Another  leading  faculty  in  the  human  mind  is  will. 
That  there  is  in  man  a  faculty  of  will,  or  a  power  of  choos- 
ing and  refusing,  we  shall  see  established  immediately. 
What  I  have  to' say  at  present  is,  That  in  order  to  man's 
concurrence  with  the  Universal  Scheme,  it  is  necessary, 
that  he  regulates  his  will  properly,  or  in  such  a  manner 
that  he  may  will  or  desire  whatever  is  for  the  general  good. 
and  will  or  desire  nothing  that  may  be  generally  preju- 
dicial.    No  man,  I  think,  will  pretend,  that  it  would  h- 


^68  OF  VIRTUE. 

better  if  the  wills  of  all  created  beings  were  set  to  thwart 
the  general  scheme,  than  that  they  were  formed  to  concur 
with  it ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  evident,  that  a  general 
opposition  of  all  beings  to  what  is  the  nature  of  things, 
and  the  right  upon  the  whole,  must  produce  universal 
confusion  ;  and  that  if  there  was  no  way  to  bring  about 
this  general  concurrence,  it  were  reasonable  to  expect, 
from  the  absolutely  perfect  rectitude  of  the  Supreme  Gov- 
ernor  of  the  World,  that  an  universe  of  such  perverse  and 
unruly  beings  should  be  utterly  destroyed,  or  rather  never 
have  been  produced.  It  is  plain,  then,  that,  in  order  to 
man's  acting  his  part,  and  concurring  with  the  general 
scheme,  he  must  be  brought  to  use  all  the  faculties  of  his 
mind  properly. 

I  promised  above  to  bring  some  proofs  for  the  fact  of 
man's  being  a  creature  endowed  with  will,  or  freedom  to 
desire,  and  power  to  determine  himself  in  favour  of,  or 
against  any  particular  object.  The  certainty  of  this  fact 
is  founded  in  sensation,  and  confirmed  by  reasoning.  Let 
any  man  observe  what  passes  in  his  own  mind,  and  he 
will  be  obliged  to  own,  that  he  feels  he  has  it  in  his  power 
to  will,  or  desire,  and  determine  himself  in  favour  of,  or 
against  any  particular  object.  We  have  no  other  proof 
for  our  existence,  nor  is  it  in  its  nature  capable  of  any  other, 
than  that  we  feel  we  exist. 

But  because  the  reality  of  human  liberty  has  been  cav- 
illed at  by  some  men  of  metaphysical  heads,  who  have  run 
into  greater  difficulties  to  avoid  less,  it  may  be  worth  while 
to  consider  this  matter  a  little.  I  know  not  whether  I  am 
made  like  the  rest  of  mankind.  But  I  can  feel  every  thing- 
pass  in  my  mind,  that  I  can  conceive  I  should  feel,  if  I 
was  really  a  free  agent.  For  example,  in  an  indiiferent 
case :  When  I  look  on  my  watch,  to  know  whether  it  is 
time  for  me  to  give  over  writing,  and  I  find  the  hour  come, 
when  I  usually  give  over,  I  do  not  find  that  lam  impelled 
to  lay  down  my  pen,  in  the  same  manner  as  the  index  of 
my  watch  is  moved  to  point  at  the  hour;  but  that  I  give 
over,  because  I  think,  upon  the  whole,  it  is  more  proper 
I  should  give  over,  than  go  on.  Does  my  watch  point 
to  the  hour,  because  it  thinks  upon  the  whole  it  is  more 
proper  that  it  should  point  to  that  hour,  than  any  other? 
If  so,  then  the  watch  and  I  are  beings  of  the  same  sort, 


OF  VIRTUE.  269 

endowed  with  much  the  same  powers  and  faculties. 
Do  I  not  lay  aside  my  pen,  because  I  choose  to  lay  it 
aside,  that  is,  because  I  am  willing  to  lay  it  aside?  Should 
I  give  over,  if  I  was  unwilling  to  give  over?  If  I  find  un- 
usual time  past,  and  yet  should  be  glad  to  finish  the  head 
I  am  upon,  before  I  lay  aside  my  pen,  does  that  motive  act 
upon  me,  and  force  me  to  go  on,  as  a  spring  acts  upon  a 
watch,  or  does  it  act  as  a  consideration  upon  a  rational  crea- 
ture? 

Again,  suppose  I  am  tempted  to  do  a  bad  action,  do  the 
motives  laid  in  my  way  force  my  compliance  ?  Do  I  not, 
on  the  contrary,  feel  that  I  yield  to  them,  because  I  choose 
to  seize  a  present  object,  which  I  expect  to  yield  me  some 
fancied  advantage?  Do  I  not  feel  in  my  own  mind  a  vio- 
lent struggle  between  the  considerations  of  present  profit 
or  pleasure,  and  those  of  wisdom  and  virtue  ?  Is  it  possi- 
ble I  should  feel  any  such  struggle  if  I  was  not  free  ?  Does 
any  such  thing  pass  in  a  machine  ?  Do  I  not  find,  that  I 
sometimes  yield  to  temptations,  which  at  other  times  I  get 
the  better  of?  Have  not  others  resisted  temptations  which 
have  proved  too  hard  for  me  ?  Could  these  differences  hap- 
pen, if  they  and  I  were  machines  ?  Do  not  these  instances 
of  temptations  conquered,  fix  both  liberty  and  guilt  upon 
me,  in  having  yielded  to  what  it  was  plain  I  might  have 
resisted  at  one  time,  if  I  did  at  another  ?  If  it  is  extremely 
difficult,  or  what  may  be  called  next  to  impossible,  to  re- 
sist  all  sorts  of  temptations  at  all  times,  does  this  prove 
any  thing  else,  than  that  human  nature  is  weak  ?  Were 
man  a  machine,  he  must  act  as  a  machine,  uniformly  and 
invariably. 

What  I  have  here  remarked  upon  the  case  of  being- 
tempted  to  a  bad  action,  is  applicable,  mutatis  mutandis, 
to  that  of  an  opportunity  of -doing  a  good  one.  Motives, 
according  as  they  appear,  will  influence  a  rational  mind. 
But  the  appearance  of  motives  to  our  minds,  as  well  as 
their  influence  over  us,  depends  very  much  upon  ourselves. 
If  I  am  prevailed  on  by  motives,  do  motives  force  me? 
Do  I  not  yield  to  them,  because  I  choose  to  yield  to  them  ? 
If  this  is  not  being  free,  what  is  freedom  ?  What  should 
I  feel  pass  in  my  mind,  if  I  was  really  free?  What  itiay 
we  suppose  superior  beings,  what  may  we  suppose  thr 
Supreme  himself  to  feel  in  his  infinite  mind  ?  Does  he, 


j70  of  virtue; 

(with  profound  reverence  be  it  spoken)  docs  he  act  without 
regard  to  motives  ?  Does  he  act  contrary  to  reasonable 
motives?  Can  we  suppose  him  uninfluenced  by  proper 
motives?  Can  we  suppose  he  feels  himself  to  be  wholly 
uninfluenced  by  reasonable  and  important  considerations  r 
Would  wc  be  more  free  than  the  most  perfect  of  all  be- 
ings? If  he  gives  us  liberty  and  power  to  a  proper  extent, 
what  would  we  have  more?  If  we  feel  that  we  have  such 
liberty,  why  should  we,  contrary  to  possibility,  endeav- 
our to  bring  ourselves  to  doubt  of  our  having  it?  If  we 
Cannot  doubt  of  our  being  free  creatures,  what  have  we 
more  to  think  of,  than  how  to  make  a  proper  use  of  our 
liberty,  how  to  get  our  wills  formed  to  a  perfect  concur- 
rence with  the  grand  scheme  of  the  Governor  of  the  Uni- 
verse, so  that  we  may  behave  properly  within  our  sphere  ? 
which  if  we  and  all  other  moral  agents  did,  every  part 
must  be  properly  acted,  every  sphere  properly  filled,  and 
universal  regularity,  perfection,  and  happiness  be  the  result. 

Some  have  imagined  that  allowing  liberty  or  will  to  cre- 
ated beings  was  a  derogation  from  the  Supreme,  to  whom 
alone  the  privilege  of  freedom  ought  to  be  ascribed.  It  is 
certain  that  this  is  strictly  true  of  absolute,  independent;, 
original  freedom.  As  it  is  undoubted  that  independent, 
necessary,  or  natural  existence  is  the  incommunicable  priv- 
ilege of  the  First  Cause.  But,  as  we  find  a  limited,  depend- 
ent existence  may  be,  and  actually  is  communicated  to 
created  beings,  where  is  the  difficulty  or  impropriety  of 
supposing  a  limited,* independent  freedom,  or  power  of 
choosing  or  refusing,  communicated  to  created  beings  ? 
As  created  beings  depend  on  the  Supreme  for  their  exist- 
ence  ;  and  yet  the  existence  they  enjoy  is  a  real  and  proper 
existence;  so  may  the  liberty  they  enjoy,  of  choosing 
or  refusing,  be  a  real  and  proper  liberty,  and  yet  derived 
from,  and  dependent  on  the  infinite  Giver  of  every  gift. 

If  there  is  no  such  thing  as  liberty,  in  any  created  being, 
as  some  have  imagined,  then  it  is  evident,  there  can  be  no 
will  but  that  of  the  Supreme  Being:  for  liberty,  or  a  power 
of  choosing  or  refusing,  is  only  another  term  for  will. 
Will,  or  willingness,  implies  freedom  in  the  very  term. 
Therefore,  the  common  tenn  free-will  is  a  tautology,  as 
much  as  if  one  should  say  voluntary  will.  There  neither 
hf  nor  can  be.  any  will  but  free-will.     Constraint,  or  force, 


OF  VIRTUE.  271 

is  the  very  opposite  of  will,  or  willingness.  Let  it  be  con- 
sidered then,  what  the  consequence  must  be  of  affirming 
that  there  is  no  will,  but  the  Supreme.  We  find  in  his- 
tory, that  a  monster  of  an  Emperor  wished  that  the  whole 
Roman  people  had  but  one  neck,  that  he  might  cut  them 
all  off  at  once.  The  same  temper,  which  led  him  to  desire 
the  destruction  of  his  people,  of  whom  he  ought  to  have 
been  the  father  and  protector,  would  have  inclined  him  to 
wish  the  destruction  of  whatever  opposed  him,  that  is  of 
all  good  beings  in  heaven  and  earth.  Will  any  one  pre- 
tend, that  this  temper  of  mind  is  agreeable  to  the  Supreme 
will  ?  Is  it  not  blasphemy  to  imagine  the  Divine  will  to  be 
against  goodness  ?  But  if  liberty  or  will  in  a  created  being 
is  impossible,  then  what  we  call  Caligula's  will  was  really 
the  Divine  will ;  the  destruction  of  all  goodness  was  agree- 
able to  the  Divine  mind !  It  is  too  horrible  to  think  of. 

I  know,  it  has  been  said,  that  the  perpetration  of  the 
most  wicked  action,  that  ever  was  committed,  must  have 
been  in  one  sense  suitable  to  the  Divine  mind,  and  scheme, 
else  it  would  have  been  prevented  by  his  over-ruling  pow- 
er. In  a  state  of  discipline,  it  was  necessary,  that  both 
the  good  and  the  wicked  should  have  liberty,  within  a  cer- 
tain sphere,  to  exert  themselves  according  to  their  respec- 
tive characters,  and  the  Divine  Wisdom  has  taken  mea- 
sures for  preventing  such  a  prevalence  of  wickedness  as 
should  defeat  his  gracious  ends ;  so  that  it  shall  still  be 
worth  while  to  have  created  an  universe ;  though  every  thing 
would  have  gone  incomparably  better,  had  no  moral  agent 
ever  made  a  wrong  use  of  his  liberty.  Nor  is  there  the 
least  difficulty  in  conceiving  of  the  Supreme  Being,  as 
proposing  the  greatest  possible  happiness  of  his  creatures, 
and  of  a  wicked  being,  as  Satan,  as  studying  how  to  pro- 
duce the  greatest  misery.  Which  two  inclinations,  if 
they  be  not  direct  opposites,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  oppo- 
sition conceivable.  And  if  there  is  a  will  opposite  to  the 
Divine,  there  is  freedom  ;  for  freedom  is  necessary  to  the 
idea  of  will. 

It  being  then  evident,  beyond  contradiction,  that  man  is 
endowed  with  liberty,  or  a  power  of  choosing  to  act  in  such 
or  such  a  manner  within  the  sphere  appointed  him  by  his  Ma- 
ker, it  follows,  that  to  bring  him  to  act  his  part  properly,  or  in 
such- a  manner  as  may  the  most  conduce  to  the  order,  per 


272  OF  VIRTUE. 

fection  and  happiness  of  the  whole,  sueh  means  must  be 
used  as  arc  fit  to  work  upon  an  intelligent  free  agent. 
Neither  force,  nor  mere  instinct,  being  suited  to  a  crea- 
ture of  superior  rank,  fit  to  be  acted  upon  by  reasonable 
motives,  it  is  plain,  that  nothing  is  so  proper  to  lead  man- 
kind to  a  steady  and  habitual  attachment  to  rectitude  of 
conduct,  as  placing  them  in  a  state  of  discipline. 

We  find  by  experience,  that  we  ourselves  (and  perhaps 
it  may  be  the  case  of  all  orders  of  rational  created  beings 
in  the  universe)  are  not  of  ourselves  at  first  strongly  attach- 
ed to  any  object,  but  what  we  are  led  to  by  instinct  or 
constitution,  in  which  there  is  nothing  either  praise-worthy 
or  blameable.  Some  minds  are  indeed  observed  to  be 
very  well  or  ill-disposed,  so  to  speak,  in  early  youth.  But 
the  goodness  of  very  young  persons  is  generally  rather 
negative,  consisting  in  a  temper  fit  for  virtue,  a  soil  proper 
to  sow  the  good  seed  in,  and  free  from  any  unhappy  cast  of 
disposition.  As  on  the  contrary,  those  we  call  unpromis- 
ing children,  are  unfortunate  through  some  deficiency  or 
redundancy,  most  probably  in  the  material  frame,  which 
proves  unfriendly  to  the  cultivation  of  virtue  in  the  mind, 
which  would  otherwise  spring  up,  and  thrive  in  it,  almost 
of  itself.  For  virtue  wants  only  to  be  seen  by  an  unpre- 
judiced mind,  to  be  loved.  Butthe  proper  notion  of  good- 
ness in  a  moral  agent,  is  a  strong  and  habitual  inclination 
in  the  mind,  to  concur  with  the  Divine  scheme,  or  to  act 
On  all  occasions  according  to  rectitude,  arising  not  from 
irrisistible,  mechanical  instinct,  nor  from  mere  negative 
happiness  of  constitution,  but  from  clear  and  comprehen- 
sive views  of  the  nature  of  things,  and  of  moral  obligations. 
In  this  there  is  a  real  and  intrinsic  excellence.  And  were 
this  attachment  to  rectitude,  on  rational  considerations, 
universally  prevalent  in  all  moral  agents ;  moral  evil  there 
could  be  none.  How  the  most  effectually  to  produce  and 
fix  in  the  minds  of  free  agents  this  inviolable  attachment 
to  virtue,  is  therefore  the  point  to  be  gained. 

The  Supreme  Mind  perceiving  all  things  as  they  really 
are,  and  having  all  things  absolutely  in  his  power,  can  in 
no  respect  be  biassed  against  perfect  rectitude  ;  but  must 
be  more  inviolably  attached  to  it,  so  to  speak,  than  any 
finite  being,  whose  views  must  be  comparatively  narrow. 
And  to  speak  properly,  he  is  himself  the  basis  and  stand- 


OF  VIRTUE,  273 

ard  of  rectitude.  The  mind  of  an  angel,  or  archangel, 
must,  in  proportion  to.  the  extent  of  his  views  of  things, 
be  more  strongly  attached  to  rectitude,  than  that  of  any 
mortal  in  the  present  state. "  Yet  we  have  no  reason  to 
imagine  that  such  his  attachment  was  congenial  to  him  ; 
but  may  rather  conclude  it  to  be  the  effect  of  examination, 
habit,  and  gradual  improvement.  We  cannot  conceive 
of  a  mind  just  produced  into  existence,  as  furnished  with 
inclinations,  attachments,  or  even  ideas  of  any  kind.  We 
have  no  conception  of  these  as  other  than  the  effects  of 
improvement.  And  we  consider  a  mind  at  its  first  enter- 
ance  into  being,  as  endowed  only  with  the  capacity  of 
taking  in  ideas,  as  the  eye  is  of  viewing  objects,  when 
presented  to  it.  So  that  we  can  form  no  other  notion  of 
the  elevated  degree  of  goodness,  which  those  glorious  be- 
ings have  attained,  than  as  the  effect  of  their  having  passed 
a  very  long  course  of  improvement.  Nor  do  the  accounts 
we  have  in  revelation,  of  the  fall  of  some  of  them,  seem  so 
well  to  suit  any  other  scheme,  as  that  of  their  having  been 
at  that  time  in  a  state  of  discipline  analogous  to  ours.  Be 
that  as  it  will,  it  is  evident,  that  to  such  creatures  as  we 
are,  with  capacities  and  all  other  circumstances  such  as 
ours  (and  had  they  been  different,  we  should  not  have  been 
what  we  are,  nor  where  we  are)  nothing  but  a  state  of  dis- 
cipline could  have  answered  the  end  of  producing  in  us 
the  necessary  attachment  to  rectitude  or  virtue.  For  this 
attachment  or  inclination  could  not  have  arisen  in  us  of 
itself,  and  without  adequate  means. 


SECTION  V. 

The  present  very  proper  for  a  State  of  Discipline.*     Ob- 
jections answered. 

WERE  we  to  imagine  a  plan  of  a  state  of  discipline, 
for  improving  a  species  of  beings  such  as  ours  for  high 
stations,  and  extensive  usefulness  in  future  states  ;  how 
could  we  suppose  it  contrived  in  any  manner,  that  should 
be  materially  different  from  the  state  we  find  ourselves  in? 

*  The  Author  would  not,  if  it  were  to  do  again,  draw  up  the  following  Sec- 
tion, altogether  as  it  stands  here,  seeing,  as  he  thinks,  reason  to  change  his 
opinion,  in  some  points  (none  of  them  indeed  of  any  material  consequence) 
from  what  it  was,  when  this  book  was  written, 

2  M 


2/4  OF  VIRTUE. 

What  scheme  could  be  imagined)  likely  to  answer  the 
purposes  of  planting  in  the  mind  of  the  creature  the  neces- 
sary habit  of  obedience  to  the  Supreme  Being  ;  of  giving 
it  an  inviolable  attachment  to  virtue,  and  horror  at  irregu- 
larity ;  aifd  of  teaching  it  to  study  a  rational  and  voluntary 
concurrence  with  the  general  scheme  of  the  Governor  of 
the  universe  ;  what  method,  I  say,  can  we  conceive  of  for 
these  noble  purposes,  that  should  not  take  in,  among 
others,  the  following  particulars,  viz.  That  the  species 
should  be  furnished  with  sufficient  capacity,  and  advan- 
tages of  all  kinds,  for  distinguishing  between  right  and 
wrong  :  That  the  ingenuity  of  their  dispositions,  and  the 
strength  of  their  virtue,  should  have  full  exercise,  in  order 
both  to  its  trial,  and  its  improvement :  That  they  should 
have  rewards  and  punishments  set  before  them,  as  the 
most  powerful  motives  to  obedience  :  And  that,  upon  the 
wrhole,  they  should  have  it  fairly  in  their  power  to  attain 
the  end  of  their  being  put  in  a  state  of  discipline? 

If  we  consider  the  present  as  a  state  of  discipline,  all  is 
ordered  as  should  be.  We  enter  into  life  with  minds 
wholly  unfurnished  with  ideas,  attachments,  or  biasses 
of  any  kind.  After  a  little  time,  we  find  certain  in- 
stincts begin  to  act  pretty  strongly  within  us,  which  are 
necessary  to  move  us  to  avoid  what  might  be  hurtful,  and 
pursue  what  is  useful  to  the  support  of  the  animal  frame, 
and  these  instincts  are  appointed  to  anticipate  reason,  which 
does  not  at  first  exert  itself;  and  bring  us  to  that  by  me- 
chanical means,  which  we  are  not  capable  of  being  worked 
to  by  rational  considerations.  Nature  has  ordered,  that  our 
parents  shall  be  so  engaged  to  us  by  irresistible  affection, 
as  to  be  willing  to  undertake  the  office  of  caring  for  us  in 
our  helpless  years  ;  of  opening,  and  cultivating  our  reason, 
as  soon  as  it  begins  to  appear ;  and  of  forming  us  by 
habit,  by  precept,  and  example,  to  virtue  and  regularity. 
As  we  advance  in  life,  our  faculties,  by  habitually  exert- 
ing them  upon  various  objects,  come  to  enlarge  them- 
selves so  as  to  take  in  a  wider  compass.  We  become 
then  capable  of  reasoning  upon  actions,  and  their  conse- 
quences, and  accordingly,  do,  in  general,  reason  justly 
enough  about  matters  of  right  and  wrong,  where  passion 
docs  not  blind  and  mislead  us.  When  we  come  into  the 
vigorous  and  flourishing  time  of  life,  excited  by  our  pas- 


OF  VIRTUE.  273 

iiions  and  appetites,  without  which,  with  the  low  degree  of 
reason  we  then  enjoy,  we  should  be  but  half  animated,  we 
proceed  to  enter  into  various  scenes  of  action.  It  is  true, 
that  innumerable  irregularities  and  follies  are  the  conse- 
quence. But  without  passions  and  appetites,  we  could 
not  be  the  compounded  creatures  we  are,  nor  consequently 
fill  our  proper  station  between  the  angelic  and  animal  ranks. 
Here  then  is  the  proper  opportunity  for  exercising  our 
virtue;  for  habituating  us  to  keep  continually  on  our 
guard  against  innumerable  assaults ;  for  watching  over 
ourselves,  that  we  may  not  be  surprized,  and  fall  before 
temptation ;  or  if  we  fall,  that  by  suffering  from  our  errors, 
we  may  be  moved  to  greater  diligence  and  attention  to 
our  duty,  to  a  stronger  attachment  to  virtue,  and  a  more 
fixed  hatred  to  the  crimes,  which  have  brought  such  suf- 
ferings upon  us.  And  though  the  necessary  propensions 
of  our  nature  do  indeed  eventually  lead  us,  through  our 
own  folly,  into  irregularity  and  vice,  it  must  yet  be  owned 
at  the  same  time,  that  by  the  wise  and  kind  constitution 
of  nature,  we  have  innumerable  natural  directions,  and 
advantages,  towards  restraining  and  bringing  them  under 
subjection,  and  innumerable  ill  consequences  are  made  to 
follow  naturally  upon  our  giving  a  loose  to  them.  Which 
ought  in  all  reason  to  lead  us  to  reflect,  that  the  govern- 
ment of  our  passions  and  appetites  is  a  part  of  our  wisdom 
and  our  duty. 

Pleasure  and  pain,  health  and  disease,  success,  and 
misfortune,  reward  and  punishment,  often  at  a  very  great 
distance  of  time  after  the  action,  are  made  the  natural,  or 
at  least  frequent  consequences  of  our  general  behaviour 
here  ;  to  suggest  to  us  the  reasonableness  of  concluding 
that  an  extensive  uniformity  prevails  through  the  whole  of 
the  Divine  moral  government,  and  that  what  we  see  here  in 
shadow,  will  in  the  future  state  appear  in  substance  and 
perfection,  and  that  it  not  only  will,  but  ought,  to  be  so, 
and  cannot  be  otherwise. 

If  we  consider  the  opposite  natural  tendences  and  effects 
of  virtue  and  vice,  in  the  present  state,  we  shall  from 
thence  see  reason  to  conclude,  that  the  former  is  pleas- 
ing to  the  Governor  of  the  world,  and  the  latter  the  con- 
trary. The  natural  effects  of  temperance  are  health, 
length  of  days,  and  a  more  delicate  enjoyment  of  the  in- 


276  OF  VIRTUE. 

nocent  pleasures  of  life.  The  natural  effects  of  gluttony, 
drunkeness,  and  lewdness,  are  disease  and  pain,  disgust 
and  disappointment,  and  untimely  death.  The  natural 
effects  of  universal  benevolence,  justice  and  charity,  are 
the  love  of  mankind,  success  in  life,  and  peace  in  one's 
own  mind.  The  consequences  to  be  expected  from  ill- 
will,  injustice  and  selfihness,  are  the  contempt  and  hatred 
of  mankind,  and  punishment  by  the  laws  of  nations.  When 
we  say  such  an  effect  follows  naturally  from  such  a  cause, 
we  mean,  that  it  does  so  by  the  Divine  appointment.  For 
what  is  natural,  is  only  so,  because  the  rectitude  requires 
it  to  be  so. 

Now,  if  our  bodily  frame  is  so  formed  that  its  well  be- 
ing consists  in  temperance,  and  that  an  immoderate  in- 
diligence  of  appetite  tends  to  disorder  and  unhinge  it ; 
if  the  make  of  the  human  mind,  and  our  social  state  in  life,' 
are  such,  that  the  social  virtues  tend  to  produce  universal 
happiness,  and  all  this  by  the   constitution  and  course  of 
nature,  of  which  God  himself  is  the  author;  if  these  things 
be  so,   who  is  so  blind,  as  not  to  see  in  all  this  a  moral 
government  already  established  under  God,  even  in  this 
world,  and  going  on  to  perfection  ?    That  we  see  in  fact 
innumerable  deviations  from  the  natural  connexion  be. 
tween   virtue  and  happiness,  and  vice  and  misery  ;  and 
that,  through  the  perverseness,  the  wickedness,  and  some- 
times the  mere  caprice  of  mankind,  and  the  unnatural  and 
disorderly  state  things  are  got  into,  it  comes  to  pass,  that 
the  natural  consequences  of  things  do  not  invariably  fol- 
low, is  by  no  means  an  objection  against  the  conclusion  I 
have  drawn  from  the  state  of  things,  as  the  Divine  Wis- 
dom constituted  them,  any  more  than  the  possibilitv  of  re- 
sisting the  power  of  gravitation,  or  lifting  a  heavy  body,  is 
a  proof,  that  there  is  no  such  law  established  in  the  natural 
world  by  the  author  of  nature. 

That  we  may  not,  by  a  continued  course  of  ease  and 
happiness,  be  led  either  to  such  arrogance  and  pride,  as 
to  conclude  ourselves  the  lords  of  nature,  and  to  forget 
that  there  is  one  above  us  ;  or  to  fix  our  affections  upon 
the  present  state,  which  is  only  intended  to  be  transient 
and  temporary,  not  lasting  and  final ;  to  answer  these  im- 
portant ends,  we  are  placed  in  the  school  of  affliction,  to 
be  broke  and  tamed  to  obedience.     That  happiness  too 


OF  VIRTUE.  277 

easily  come  at,  and  a  constant  scries  of  success  and  pros- 
perity, are  by  no  means  proper  for  such  unprincipled  and 
unexperienced  beings  as  we  are,  is  too  evident  from  the 
effects  of  ease  and  affluence,  which  very  few  can  bear 
without  almost  losing  their  reason.  The  scenes  of  mad- 
ness run  into  by  victorious  princes,  of  which  history  is 
full ;  the  pranks  from  time  to  time  played  by  our  nobility 
and  rich  commoners,  and  the  fate  of  whole  nations,  when- 
ever they  arrive  at  the  pinnacle  of  greatness  and  riches, 
show  the  absolute  necessity  of  affliction  to  force  us  upon 
consideration,  to  put  us  in  mindof  the  frailty  of  our  nature 
and  state,  and  to  make  us  remember  that  we  are  under 
the  government  of  one,  who  can  raise  or  humble,  afflict 
or  relieve,  reward  or  punish,  as  to  him  seems  good. 

That  we  may  never  lose  sight  of  our  dutv,  nor  have  it 
In  our  power  to  pretend  ignorance,  and  to  silence  even 
the  poor  excuse  of  thoughtlessness,  conscience,  that  ever 
watchful  and  faithful  monitor,  is  placed  within  the  mind 
itself,  to  be  always  at  hand,  to  judge  of  our  characters  and 
actions,  and  to  ilarm  us  with  its  stings  and  reproaches, 
whenever  we  do  amiss.  And  there  is  no  mind  so  gross 
and  stupid,  as  not  to  feel  at  times  some  pangs  of  remorse. 
The  very  cannibal  has  a  clear  enough  sense  of  right  and 
wrong,  to  know  when  he  himself  is  injured,  though  he 
will  not  stick  to  injure  his  neighbour.  This  effectually 
fastens  guilt  upon  him.  And  the  lowest  and  most  savage 
of  mankind,  who  shall  hereafter  be  condemned,  will  be 
obliged  to  own,  that  with  all  his  disadvantages  for  know- 
ing his  dutv,  he  might  have  acted  his  part  better  than  he 
did. 

Not  only  conscience  within,  but  every  object  in  nature 
presents  us  some  moral  lesson.  Tempests,  thunders,  and 
lightnings  from  above  ;  inundations  and  earthquakes  from 
beneath  ;  the  sword,  famine,  and  pestilence  in  our  cities  ; 
diseases  and  pains  in  our  own  persons,  or  those  of  our 
nearest  friends  and  relations,  and  death  on  our  right  hand 
and  on  our  left ;  what  are  all  these  but  awful  and  yet  kind 
warnings  from  the  tender  and  compassionate  Father  of 
mankind,  who  shows  himself  willing  to  give  his  poor  un- 
thinking short-sighted  creatures  all  possible  advantages 
for  virtue  and  happiness,  that  might  be  at  all  consistent  with 
their  nature  as  free  agents,  with  their  condition  as  beings 


278  OF  VIRTUE. 

in  a  state  of  discipline,  and  with  the  grand  and  universal 
scheme,  which  must  be  equitable,  unchangeable,  and  uni- 
form. 

.  And,  as  if  all  this,  and  a  thousand  times  more  not  men- 
tioned, had  not  been  enough,  we  are  taught,  that  angels 
have  a  charge  over  us,  to  assist  us  in  our  trials,  and 
to  .prevent  our  falling  too  shamefully;  that  the  Divine 
Providence  watches  over  us,  and  suits  our  circumstances 
to  our  strength  and  ingenuity  of  disposition.  And  to  crown 
all,  the  Ambassador  of  heaven,  the  image  of  Paternal  Dei- 
ty, and  brightness  of  Divine  Glory  has  descended  to  our 
world,  and  in  our  own  nature  shown  us,  both  by  his  ex- 
ample and  his  divine  laws,  what  it  is  to  live  as  we  ought, 
and  how  we  may  infallibly  attain  the  end  of  our  being.  If 
this  is  not  doing  enough  for  us, — what  would  be  enough  ? 

Thus  it  appears  plain,  that  the  present  was  intended  for 
a  state  of  discipline,  and  is  very  well  adapted  to  that  pur- 
pose. Nor  does  the  actual  failure  and  hideous  ruin  of 
numbers  of  moral  agents,  who  will  undoubtedly  be  found 
hereafter  to  have  perverted  this  state  of  discipline  for  vir- 
tue, into  an  education  in  vice,  prove,  that  the  state  was 
not  intended  for  training  them  up  to  virtue,  or  that  it  is 
not  properly  adapted  to  that  purpose,  any  more  than  the 
amazing  number  of  abortions,  which  happen  in  the  natu- 
ral world,  proves,  that  the  general  design  of  seeds  was  not 
to  fructify,  and  produce  plants  and  animals.  Naturalists 
show  us,  that  in  some  cases  millions  of  stamina  perish  for 
one  that  comes  to  maturity.  And,  as  we  conclude  every 
seed  of  a  plant,  or  animal  egg,  was  formed  capable  of  fruc- 
tification, so  we  may,  that  every  moral  agent  was  formed 
capable  of  attaining  happiness.  The  great  difference  is, 
that  in  the  natural  world,  the  numerous  abortions  we  have 
been  speaking  of,  are  the  consequence  of  the  common 
course  of  nature ;  but  in  the  moral,  of  the  fatal  perverse- 
ness  of  unhappy  beings,  who  wilfully  rush  upon  their  own 
destruction. 

Some  have  made  a  difficulty  of  conceiving  how  the 
wisest  and  best  of  beings,  who  must  have  foreseen,  that 
great  numbers  of  his  unhappy  short-sighted  creatures,  in 
spite  of  all  that  should  be  done  for  them,  would  obstin- 
ately throw  themselves  into  destruction,  and  defeat  the  end 
of  their  creation  ;  some  have  puzzled  themselves,  I  say, 


OF  VIRTUE.  279 

how  to  reconcile  with  the  divine  perfections  of  wisdom 
and  goodness,  the  creating  of  such  beings. 

But  what  state  of  discipline  for  free  agents  can  be  con- 
ceived,  without  supposing  a  possibility  of  their  behaving 
ill  in  it  ?  Nothing  but  an  absolute  restraint  upon  the  liberty 
of  the  creature,  which  is  wholly  inconsistent  with  the  na- 
ture of  free  agency,  and  of  a  state  of  discipline,  could 
have  prevented  their  acting  in  many  instances  amiss.  But 
the  all-bounteous  Creator  has  effectually  put  it  out  of  the 
power  of  the  most  presumptuously  insolent  of  his  crea- 
tures to  arraign  his  justice.  For,  if  he  has  given  to  every 
accountable  being  a  fair  opportunity  of  working  out 
his  own  happiness ;  if  he  has  put  into  the  hands  of  every 
individual  the  means ;  placed  him  in  the  direct  way  toward 
it,  and  is  ready  to  assist  him  in  his  endeavours  after  it ;  if 
he  has,  in  short,  put  happiness  in  the  power  of  every 
accountable  being,  which  he  undoubtedly  has,  as  shown 
above ;  he  has,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  done  the  same 
as  if  he  had  given  it  to  every  individual.  For  he,  who 
points  me  out  the  way  to  get  an  estate,  or  any  of  the  good 
things  of  life,  and  who  assists  and  supports  me  in  my  en- 
deavours to  procure  it,  he  it  is  to  whom  I  am  obliged  for 
whatever  I  acquire  in  consequence  of  his  advice,  and  by 
means  of  his  protection  and  assistance.  Now,  if  the  ben- 
eficent Author  of  being  has  thus  given  to  every  individ- 
ual such  means  of  happiness ;  as  it  must  be  wholly  through 
his  own  perverseness  if  he  misses  it ;  what  shadow  of  pre- 
tence is  their  for  cavilling,  or  what  difficulty  in  understand- 
ing and  vindicating  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  ado- 
rable Author  of  existence?  If  we  lay  the  whole  blame, 
and  with  the  utmost  justice,  on  him,  who,  having  an 
opportunity  and  means  for  gaining  any  secular  advantage 
put  in  his  hands,  neglects  them ;  if  we  should  as  much 
condemn  the  man,  who,  through  obstinacy  or  indolence, 
has  let  slip  an  opportunity  of  making  his  fortune,  as  an- 
other, who  through  extravagance  has  dissipated  one  alrea- 
dy in  his  possession ;  if  we  should  as  justly  look  upon 
that  person  as  our  benefactor,  by  whose  means  we  acquire 
the  conveniences  of  life,  as  on  the  immediate  giver  of  a 
gift,  what  remains  but  that  we  justify  and  adore  the  bound- 
less goodness  of  the  universal  Parent  of  Nature,  who,  by 
calling  innumerable  creatures  into  existence,  by  endow- 


280  OF  VIRTUE. 

ing  them  with  reason,  by  placing  them  in  a  state  of  disci- 
pline, and  giving  them  all  possible  advantages  for  the  im- 
provement necessary  for  happiness,  has,  in  effect,  put  in 
the  hands  of  every  accountable  being  a  felicity  fit  for  a  God 
to  bestow  ?  And  if  every  individual,  that  shall  hereafter 
be  condemned,  shall  be  obliged  to  confess  his  sentence 
just,  and  to  own  that  he  might  have  acted  a  better  part  than 
he  did,  the  Divine  justice  and  goodness  stand  fully  vin- 
dicated in  the  sight  of  the  whole  rational  creation. 

For,  what ! — Must  the  infinite  Author  of  existence 
(with  reverence  be  it  spoken)  must  He  deny  himself  the 
exertion  of  his  boundless  goodness  in  producing  an  uni- 
verse of  conscious  beings,  of  whom  numbers  will  in  the 
event  come  to  happiness,  merely  to  prevent  the  self- sought 
destruction  of  a  set  of  wicked  degenerate  beings  ?  Either 
there  must  have  been  no  creatures   brought  into  being 
above  the  rank  of  brutes,  consequently  no  happiness  above 
the  animal  enjoyed  by  any  created  being,  or  freedom  of 
agency  must  have  been  given.     And  what  freedom  is  con- 
ceivable  without  a  possibility  of  error  and  irregularity, 
and  consequently  of  misery?  But  is  not  the  happiness  "of 
one  virtuous  mind  of  more  consequence  than  the  voluntary 
ruin  of  a  thousand  degenerate  beings?  And  is  not  a  state, 
in  which  we  have  the  opportunity  of  attaining  an  incon- 
ceivable felicity,  if  we  be  not  inexcusablv  wanting  to  our- 
selves, is  not  this  a  state  to  be  wished  for  by  mankind,  if 
they  had  their  choice  either  to  come  into  it  or  not  ?  As  for 
those  unhappy   beings  of  our  species,  who,  proceeding 
from  one  degree  of  vice  and  folly  to  another,  shall  at  last 
come  to  be  hardened  against  all  good,  what  is  the  value  of 
thousands  of  such  beings  in  the  estimation  of  infinite  wis- 
dom and  rectitude,  that  their  destruction  should  be  thought 
a  hardship  ?  For  what  else  are  such  degenerate  beings  fit  ? 
Besides,  we  know  that  Divine  Wisdom  has  so  planned 
out  his  universal  economy,  that  an  inferior  good  shall,  in 
the  end,  proceed  from  what  was  by  wicked  beings  intended 
for  ruin  and  mischief.     The  whole  human  species  were 
originally  formed  capable  of  happiness,  and  every  individ- 
ual has  happiness  in  his  power.     But  ,;s  the  Divine  Wis- 
dom, which  perfectly  knew  the  future  characters  of  all  his 
creatures,  with  all  the  circumstances  they  s  lould  be  effect- 
ed by,  foresaw  that  numbers  would  come  to  deviate  from. 


OF  VIRTUE.  281 

the  eternal  rule  of  rectitude,  it  was  proper  that  a  secondary 
scheme  should  be  provided,  by  means  of  which  those  free 
agents,  who  should  not  thus  voluntarily  yield  the  due  obe- 
dience and  concurrence  with  the  general  design,  should,  by 
superior  direction,  be  forced  to  contribute  to  the  greater 
perfection  and  beauty  of  the  whole.  Of  this  secondary 
part  of  the  divine  economy,  we  can  trace  out  some  very 
considerable  parts,  as  the  following,  viz.  We  know  that 
wicked  and  cruel  men,  in  endeavouring  to  root  out  truth, 
and  sweep  virtue  from  the  earth,  have  ever  been  made,  in 
spite  of  themselves,  the  instruments  of  their  more  gene- 
ral establishment.  The  whole  race  of  persecutors  of  Chris- 
tianity, from  Herod  down  to  Lewis  XIV.  have  so  egre- 
giously  overshot  themselves,  as  to  be  the  very  causes  of 
the  greater  prevalency  of  true  religion,  which  has  given 
occasion  to  the  well-known  saying,  That  the  blood  of  the 
martyrs  has  been  the  seed  of  the  church.  In  more  pri- 
vate life,  it  is  notorious,  that  a  very  considerable  part  of  the 
trials  of  the  virtue  of  good  men  arises  from  the  wicked 
part  of  the  species.  And  every  trial,  where  the  good  man 
oomes  off  with  honour,  serves  naturally  to  establish  his 
virtue,  and  to  increase  his  reward  hereafter.  The  mere 
contrast  between  the  character  of  the  pious,  the  temper, 
ate  and  benevolent  man,  and  that  of  the  blasphemer,  the 
voluptuary,  and  the  hard-hearted,  sets  off  the  former  to 
the  utmost  advantage,  and  presents  it  to  the  general  obser- 
vation in  the  fairest  point  of  view ;  by  which  votaries  to 
virtue  are  gained,  and  a  horror  at  vice  is  raised  in  every 
considerate  mind.  And  in  the  future  state,  what  power- 
ful effects  may  be  produced  by  the  fearful  and  exemplary 
punishments  inflicted  on  those  of  our  species,  or  others, 
who  have  degenerated  from  the  dignity  of  their  nature,  and, 
as  much  as  they  could,  defeated  the  end  of  their  creation, 
may  be  imagined  by  those  who  consider  what  extensive 
connexions  between  the  various  orders  of  being  may  here- 
after come  to  be  opened  to  our  view  ;  and  that,  as  all  moral 
and  free  agents  of  all  orders  are  now  allied,  they  may 
hereafter  come  to  be  united,  and  make  one  immense  and 
universal  society  ;  and  whatever  has  been  originally  intend- 
ed for  usefulness  to  one  order  of  moral  agents,  may  at  last 
rame  to  be  useful  to  all.     Something  analogous  t*  "his  \". 

2  N  "' ' 


282  OF  VIRTUE. 

have  in  the  case  of  the  fallen  angels,  whose  ruin  is  men- 
tioned in  scripture  as  a  warning  to  us. 

It  has  been  said,  Since  the  Supreme  Being  foresaw, 
without  a  possibility  of  error,  what  would  be  the  exact 
character  of  every  one  of  his  creatures,  was  it  not  to  have 
been  expected,  that  such  of  them  as  he  knew  would  turn 
out  wicked,  and  come  to  ruin,  should  never  have  been 
brought  into  existence,  or  cut  orFin  the  beginning  of  life  ? 
Our  Saviour  says  of  Judas,  for  example,  that  it  had  been 
better  for  him  never  to  have  been  born.     How  then,  say 
thcy,  came  he  to  be  born  ?  Or  why  was  he  not  removed 
out  of  life,  before  he  came  to  the  age  of  perpetrating  the 
most  attrocious  crime  that  ever  was  or  can  be  committed  ? 
Though  I  would  not  be  the  proposer  of  such  presump- 
tuous questions,  I  think  it  innocent  enough  to  endeavour 
to  answer  them.     And  first,  if  we  consider,  that  to  infinite 
purity  and  rectitude,  wickedness  is  so  odious  as  to  render 
the  guilty  person  altogether  contemptible  in  his  sight,  we 
shall  not  wonder  that  he  does  not  (so  to  speak)  judge  it 
worth  while  to  put  him  out  of  existence,  but  lets  him  go 
on  to  fill  up  the  measure  of  his  iniquity,  and  reap  the  fruit 
of  his  doings.     Again,  it  is  to  be  considered,  that  Infinite 
Wisdom  intending  to  work  out  great  and  valuable  ends 
by  what  is  designed  by  his  wicked  creatures  for  ruin  and 
mischief,  may  therefore  think  proper  to  suffer  them  to  go 
on  to  heap  damnation  on  themselves,  and  determine  to 
make  use  of  their  self- sought  destruction  for  the  advant- 
age of  the  more  valuable  part  of  his  creatures.     How  the 
character  of  one,  who  docs  not  yet  exist,  is  fore-knowable, 
we  have  no  conception,  though  we  find  from  scripture 
that  it  is  so,  in  the  case  of  Judas  particular)'. 

On  the  seeming  difficulty  of  reconciling  with  the  Divine 
Goodness,  our  being  placed  in  a  state  perhaps  more  dis- 
advantageous for  virtue  and  happiness  than  that  in  which 
other  orders  of  beings  are  created;  a  state  exposed  to  such 
variety  of  temptations,  as  renders  it  hard  for  beings,  fur- 
nished with  such  moderate  degrees  of  strength  as  we  are, 
to  get  the  better  of  the  important  conflict,  on  the  event  of 
which  our  eternal  happiness  depends;  on  this  difficulty 
the  following  thoughts  may  serve  to  vindicate  the  Divine 
Goodness,  and  to  shew  our  condition  to  be  extremely  desi- 


OF  VIRTUE.  283 

rable,  instead  of  our  being  hardly  dealt  with,  as  some  have 

insinuated. 

If  our  condition  were  such,  that  one  single  deviation 
from  our  duty  would  at  once  irrecoverably  determine  our 
fate,  or  that  what  may  properly  be  called  human  infirmity 
should  doom^us  to  irreversible  destruction,  there  might 
be  some  pretence  for  complamt.     But  if,  so  far  from  that, 
a  faithful,  constant,  and  prevailing  endeavour  to  gain  the 
Divine   Approbation,  with  watchfulness  against  tempta- 
tions, and  repentance  for  our  fruits,  followed  by  amend- 
ment of  life,  be  the  means  for  attaining  happiness ;  where 
lies  the  mighty  hardship  ?  Nay,  I  would  ask  any  impar- 
tial person,  whether  it  were  more  desirable  to  be  put  in  a 
state  of  trial,  in  which  there  should  be  upon  the  whole  fewer 
chances  of  miscarrying,  but  lest  allowances  to  be  made  in 
the  final  judgment  for  deviation  ;  or  to  be  in  a  state  expos- 
ed to  greater  hazards,  but  with  greater  allowances  to  fail- 
ures'? Is  it  not  the  same  thing  in  the  event,  how  various 
the  temptations  in  the  state  of  trial  may  be,  if  the  merciful 
allowances,  made  by  the  judge,  be  proportioned  to  them. 
And  who  can  doubt  that  Infinite  Goodness  will  make  all 
possible  allowances  hereafter  for  those  failures  of  weak  and 
frail  beings,  which  shall  be  found  to  have  been  owing  to 
the  mere  infirmity  of  their  nature,  and  the  precariousness 
of  the  present  state,  not  to  daring  impiety  and  presump- 
tuous wickedness.     And  it  will  accordingly  be  hereaftei 
found,  that  a  competent  number  of  our  species  have  actu- 
ally been  able  under  the  greatest  disadvantages,  to  attain 
such  a  measure  of  conformity  to  the  Divine  Will,  as  shall, 
with  the  heavenly  assistance,  and  allowances  to  be  made 
for  human  frailty,  be  found  proper  for  rendering  them, 
upon  the  christian  plan,  objects  of  the  mercy  of  the  Judge 
of  the  World,  and  capable  of  being  raised  to  a  state  of 
happiness  ;    which  will  show,  that  the  miscarriage  of  the 
rest  was  wholly  owing  to  their  own  perverseness,  and  that 
they  themselves  were  the  whole  cause  of  that  destruction, 
which  the  others  escaped. 

Every  one  knows,  that,  with  respect  to  the  present 
state,  exclusive  of  futurity,  there  is  great  difficulty  in 
getting  through  life  without  some  fatal  misconduct,  which 
may  embitter,  and  render  it  unhappy.  And  very  doubt- 
ful it  must  be  confessed  to  be,  whether  anew  born  infant 


284  OF  VIRTUE. 

shall  get  over  the  precarious  time  of  youth,  without  being 
drawn  through  rashness  and  thoughtlessness,  and  the 
temptations  of  bad  company,  into  such  a  course  of  folly, 
as  may  effectually  prevent  his  proving  a  useful  and  valua- 
ble member  of  society.  Yet  we  always  look  upon  the 
birth  of  a  child  into  the  world  as  a  subject  of  joy,  not  of 
grief  or  complaint,  and  upon  the  untimely  death  of  a  young 
person  as  a  calamity  ;  because  we  take  into  our  view  the 
consideration  of  its  being  in  the  power  of  every  person, 
through  Divine  Assistance,  which  is  never  wanting  to  the 
honest  mind,  to  behave  well  in  life,  if  he  pleases,  and  we 
hope  he  will  do  so.  The  warrior  is  sufficiently  apprized 
of  the  danger  of  engaging  ;  a  danger,  which  it  is  out  of  his 
power  to  ward  off.  Yet  he  longs  to  mix  in  the  martial 
tumult ;  and  engages  with  joy  in  the  glorious  strife.  Why 
should  man  think  himself  hardly  used  in  being  placed  in 
a  post  attended  with  occasional  danger ;  but  in  which  he 
must  be  egregiously  wanting  to  himself  if  he  miscarries 
finally  ?  But  if  I  .should  not  choose  a  happiness  attainable 
only  through  peril  and  trouble,  but  would  rather  through 
sordid  stupidity  and  inactivity,  desire  to  decline  existing 
upon  such  terms  ;  does  it  therefore  follow,  that  the  infinite 
Author  of  existence  may  not  oblige  me,  in  spite  of  my  ob- 
stinacy, or  stupidity,  to  go  through  what  he  may  judge 
proper  for  me,  and  necessary  for  his  great  ends?  Has  not 
the  potter  power  over  the  clay  ?  Suppose  I  should  not  in 
this  life  be  convinced  of  my  obligations  to  the  Divine 
Goodness  upon  the  whole,  does  it  follow  that  I  never 
shall  ? 

It  has  been  asked,  why  the  beneficent  Author  of  being 
did  not  pursue  such  an  effectual  scheme  in  the  moral  world 
as  he  has  done  in  the  natural  ?  It  was,  for  example,  the 
Divine  intention,  that  the  human  and  other  species  should 
absolutely  be  preserved  as  long  as  the  world  lasted.  The 
two  sexes  are  therefore  engaged  to  one  another,  and  to 
their  common  offspring,  by  such  powerful  instinctive  at- 
tractions as  are  found  fully  sufficient  to  answer  this  im- 
portant end.  Why  did  not  our  Maker  plant  in  our  minds 
such  a  strong  and  irresistible  propensity  to  virtue,  as  would 
have  effectually  secured  the  universal  happiness  of  the 
species  ?  The  answer  is  easy,  viz.  There  is  reason  to 
believe,  that,  upon  the  whole,  a  great  number  of  the  hu- 


OF  VIRTUE.  285 

man  species  will,  through  Divine  Goodness,  come  to  hap- 
piness ;  such  a  number  at  least,  as  it  shall  in  the  end  ap- 
pear to  have  been,  to  speak  after  the  manner  of  men,  worth 
while  to  have  created  the  human  species.  But,  to  pro- 
pose by  mere  instinctive  attractions  alone,  mechanically  to 
draw  free  agents  to  the  love  and  practice  of  virtue,  is  con- 
tradictory to  the  nature  of  the  design.  Because  what  is 
wanted  is  not  so  much,  that  mankind,  and  other  free  agents, 
be  brought  to  go,  like  machines,  in  a  certain  track,  as  that 
the  rational  faculties  be  formed  in  a  rational  manner  to  the 
entire  love  and  habitual  pursuit  of  goodness.  This  shows 
mechanical  means  to  be  improper  alone  for  that  purpo  e, 
though  they  may  prove,  as  we  find,  useful  helps  ;  and  '  t 
rational  means  are  absolutely  necessary  for  acting  upon 
rational  natures.  And  it  is  ever  to  be  remembered,  t 
as  the  inanimate  world  is  made  to  concur  with  the  Divine 
scheme  in  a  mechanical,  and  the  animal  in  an  instinctive 
manner,  so  rational  beings,  if  they  concur  at  all,  must  con- 
cur in  a  manner  suitable  to  their  nature  ;  I  mean,  in  a  ra- 
tional, free,  and  voluntary  manner. 

It  has  likewise  been  said,  Why  did  not  the  scheme  of 
the  moral  government  of  the  world  take  in  such  a  succes- 
sion of  continual  interpositions,  as  would  have  effectually 
forced  men  to  have  been  virtuous  ?  To  this  may  be  an- 
swered, first,  That  miracles  continued  would  soon  be 
no  miracles,  and  consequently  would  have  no  effects  dif- 
ferent from  those  produced  by  the  common  course  of  na- 
ture. And,  secondly,  That  if  Omnipotence  were  con- 
tinually from  time  to  time  to  strike  offenders  dead,  it  is  to 
be  questioned,  whether  abstinence  from  vice,  and  the 
forced  practice  of  virtue,  which  would  be  the  consequence, 
would  be  sufficient,  in  the  nature  of  things,  to  render 
moral  agents  capable  of  any  high  degree  of  happiness. 

For,  suppose  it  were  affirmed,  that  there  is  a  natural  ab- 
surdity, or  inconsistency,  in  proposing  to  bestow  upon  an 
order  of  creatures  a  very  high  degree  of  happiness,  upon 
any  other  footing,  than  in  consequence  of  their  having 
passed  with  honour  and  victory  through  a  state  of  proba- 
tion, in  which  there  was  some  difficulty  and  danger, 
though  not  unsurmountable  :  suppose  it  were  alleged, 
that  there  is  a  necessity  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  the  hap- 
piness of  all  rational  beings  be  proportioned  and  suited  to 


286  OF  VIRTUE. 

their  state  of  probation :  who  could  contradict  this,  qr 
show  the  bare  possibility  how  such  a  creature,  as  man, 
could,  in  a  constancy  with  his  own  nature,  and  the  Divine 
Rectitude,  come  to  such  a  degree  and  kind  of  happiness, 
as  we  believe  to  be  intended  for  him,  without  such  a  pre- 
paration, as  he  is  to  pass  through  in  the  present  state  ?  If 
we  judge  according  to  what  experience  teaches  us  of  our 
own  turn  of  mind,  which  in  all  probability  is  universal,  we 
cannot  suppose  the  happiness  even  of  heaven  itself  would 
prove  a  happiness  to  beings,  who  should  attain  it  too  easily. 
When  a  prince,  educated  from  his  infancy  in  expectation 
of  the  regal  dignity,  comes  to  mount  the  throne  of  his  an- 
cestors, we  do  not  find,  that  it  gives  him  any  greater  joy, 
than  an  heir  to  a  very  small  fortune  has  in  entering  upon 
his  estate.  But  suppose  a  private  person  unexpectedly 
raised  from  poverty,  and  even  from  the  fear  of  death, 
to  an  imperial  throne  ;  the  transport  of  an  elevation  so  un- 
pected,  from  circumstances  so  grievous,  will  be  likely  to 
endanger  his  losing  his  senses.  It  is  to  be  supposed,  that 
to  a  species  of  beings  created  in  heaven,  or  transported 
thither  they  knew  not  how,  it  would  in  reality  be  no  heaven. 
Nor  is  there  any  possibility  of  conceiving  of  an  order  of 
being  raised  to  a  station  of  happiness,  without  passing 
through  a  state  of  trial,  who  should  not  be  in  danger  offal- 
ling  from  it  again,  for  want  of  having  been  disciplined  to 
virtue,  and  in  a  rational,  as  well  as  habitual  manner  attach- 
ed to  goodness  and  obedience.  So  that  trial  and  discipline 
seem  necessary  to  be  gone  through  by  every  species  (I  do 
not  say  by  every  individual)  throughout  the  rational  crea- 
tion, sooner  or  later. 

It  has  likewise  been  asked  on  this  subject,  how  the 
justice  of  the  immensely  different  fates  of  two  persons,  one 
of  which  proves  obedient,  and  the  other  wicked,  appears  ; 
since  it  may  often  be  supposed,  that  he,  who  has  actually 
proved  virtuous,  might  in  more  disadvantageous  circunru 
stances,  have  been  overcome  by  the  severity  of  his  trial, 
and  been  a  reprobate  ;  and  he,  who,  by  the  force  of  very 
powerful  temptations,  has  been  seduced,  might,  in  circum- 
stances more  favourable  to  virtue,  have  stood  his  ground, 
and  in  the  end  come  to  happiness? 

This  seemingly  difficulty  is  not  very  hard  to  obviate. 
For,  first,  as  to  him,  who  comes  to  happiness,  no  one  ever 


OP  VIRTUE.  287 

thought  of  injustice  in  the  case  of  a  benefit  bestowed. 
And  he,  who  is  Lord  of  all,  may,  without  question,  do 
with  his  own  what  he  will ;  he  may  give  to  one  of  his  crea- 
tures such  advantages  as  shall  in  the  event  produce  the 
effect  of  qualifying  him  for  final  happiness.  But  the  other, 
whose  advantages  were  inferior,  will  not  he  have  just 
ground  for  complaint  ?  By  no  means.  If  the  advantages, 
he  enjoyed,  were  fully  sufficient,  he  stands  self- condemned 
for  having  abused  them  ;  nor  could  he  in  reason  expect 
them  to  be  more  than  sufficient,  much  less  to  be  greatly 
above  what  was  sufficient,  and  least  of  all,  to  be  equal  to 
the  greatest  advantages,  ever  allowed  to  any  other  person. 
Upon  the  whole,  nothing  is  more  evident,  than  that  the 
being,  who  has  actually  proved  obedient,  by  whatever 
means  he  has  been  brought  to  goodness,  is,  according  to 
the  nature  and  fitness  of  things,  rewardable ;  and  that  the 
soul,  which  sins,  does  in  strict  justice  deserve  to  die. 

The  case  of  that  very  .considerable  part  of  the  human 
species,  which  is  cut  off  in  immature  age,  without  any 
opportunity  of  going  through  any  trial  in  life,  seems,  at 
first  view,  to  lessen  the  force  of  what  I  have  been  saying  of 
the  necessity  of  a  state  of  discipline,  to  form  the  mind  to 
virtue.  For  what  is  to  become  of  those,  who  die  in  in- 
fancy ?  Are  they  annihilated  ?  Are  they  happy  or  miser- 
able in  a  future  state,  who  have  done  neither  good  or  evil  ? 
Or  do  they  go  through  a  state  of  discipline  in  their  separate 
existence  ? 

To  what  may  be  said  on  this  point,  I  have  the  follow- 
ing brief  answers  to  offer ;  First,  what  I  have  above  said  of 
the  necessity  of  a  state  of  dicipline,  must  be  understood  to 
be  meant  of  a  species  in  general.  Perhaps  the  circum- 
stances of  the  bulk  of  a  species'  having  gone  through  a 
state  of  dicipline,  may  be  sufficient  for  making  such  an 
impression  upon  the  other,  who  happened  to  escape  it,  as 
may  keep  them  to  the  steady  practice  of  virtue  in  all  future 
states.  This  may  be  the  case ;  and  yet  it  might  be 
absurd  to  imagine  a  whole  species  raised  to  happiness  with- 
out at  least  a  considerable  part  of  them  going  though  a 
discipline  for  virtue,  and  thereby  being  qualified  to  instruct 
their  more  unexperienced  fellow-beings  in  the  importance 
of  keeping  to  their  duty,  and  the  fatal  danger  and  direful 
effects  of  swerving  from  it,     So  that  what  was  above  said 


288  OF  VIRTUE. 

of  the  necessity  of  a  state  of  discipline  for  every  species  of 
rational  agents  in  the  universe,  stands  upon  the  same  foot- 
ing notwithstanding  this  difficulty. 

But  if  every  period  of  the  existence  of  a  free  agent  be,  in 
fact,  a  state  of  trial  and  discipline,  in  which  it  is  possible 
(though  still  less  and  less  probable  according  to  their  far- 
ther improvements  in  virtue)  that  they  should  fall ;  we  may 
then  conceive  of  the  possibility  of  surmounting  this  diffi- 
culty by  supposing  that  those  of  the  human  species,  who 
do  not  go  through  a  state  of  discipline  in  this  life,  may  be 
hereafter  made  partakers  of  a  lower  degree  of  happiness  (as 
we  are  in  Scripture  informed,  that  the  mansions  of  future 
bliss  are  various)  which  may  prove  their  state  of  trial,  as  the 
paradisaical  was  intended  to  have  been  for  our  species  and 
the  angelic  was  of  Satan  and  his  angels.  Andas  Adam, 
and  the  rebellious  angels,  fell  from  a  higher  state  than  thai 
which  we  are  placed  in,  so  may  many  of  those  of  our  spe- 
cies, whose  first  state  of  discipline  may  commence  after  this 
life  is  over,  and  after  our  world  is  judged  and  brought  to 
its  consummation.  If  so,  those  of  us  who  have  past 
through  this  mortal  life  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  found  fit 
objects  of  the  Divine  Mercy,  will  have  great  reason  to 
congratulate  ourselves  on  our  having  passed  the  danger, 
and  being  more  secure  of  our  happiness,  than  those  whom 
we  are  now  apt  to  envy  for  their  getting  out  of  life  so 
easily :  For  we  know  not  what  we  ought  to  wish  for,  but 
lie,  who  made  us,  knows. 

If  any  reader  should  imagine,  that  I  intended  to  estab- 
lish any  one  hypothesis  as  the  real  account  of  this  matter; 
he  mistakes  my  design.  All  I  mean  by  what  I  have  advanc- 
ed, is  only  to  show,  that  the  circumstance  of  a  consider- 
able part  of  our  species'  passing  through  no  state  of  dis- 
cipline in  this  life,  does  not  invalidate  the  necessity  of  a 
discipline  to  be  gone  through  by  every  species  of  free  crea- 
tures, in  order  to  their  being  effectually  attached  to  virtue, 
and  so  fitted  for  higher  degrees  of  ^appiness  and  glory. 

If  after  all  thfit  lias  been  said  and  more,  which  might  be 
offered,  if  it  were  proper,there  should  remain  difficulties  with 
respect  to  the  august  economy  of  the  infinitely-wise  and 
good  Governor  of  the  world;  if  such  short-sighted  beings 
as  we  are,  should  no  way  be  able  to  reconcile  the  seeming 
contradictions,  a»d   surmount  the  supposed  difficulties; 


OF  VIRTUE.  289 

this  is  no  more  than  might  have  been  expected.  We  are, 
through  the  meanness  oi'  our  faculties,  ignorant  of  infinitely 
more  particulars  than  we  know,  in  all  extensive  sub- 
jects ;  and  we  see  but  part  of  one  scene  in  the  immense 
drama  of  the  moral  world.  But  in  what  little  we  see,  we 
observe  a  thousand  times  more  than  would  have  been 
sufficient  to  prove  a  wise  and  good  government  already- 
begun,  and  going  on  to  perfection.  If  therefore,  we  have 
any  candor,  or  any  judgment  to  forma  reasonable  deduc- 
tion of  one  thingfrom  another,  we  cannot  avoid  concluding, 
that  what  we  do  not  comprehend  of  the  Divine  Scheme 
is  of  a  piece  with  what  we  do  comprehend,  and  that  the 
whole  is  established  uport,  and  conducted  by,  perfect  and 
unerring  rectitude. 

The  very  circumstance  of  the  difficulty  we  find  in  com- 
prehending the  whole  of  the  Divine  Scheme,  both  in  the 
natural  and  moral  world,  while  at  the  same  time  we  find 
we  can  enter  into  them  so  far,  and  see  so  much  of  wisdom 
and  contrivance,  is  a  beauty,  and  a  proof  that  the  Author 
is  one  whose  ways  are  immensely  above  our  ways,  and 
his  thoughts  above  our  thoughts. 

Considering  the  superabundant  care  that  has  been  taken 
for  putting,  and  keeping  us,  in  the  way  to  happiness,  I 
think  it  may  be  fairly  concluded,  that  whoever  is  not  satis- 
fied with  the  Divine  wisdom  and  goodness  apparent  in  the 
conduct  of  the  moral  world,  would  not  be  satisfied  with 
any  possible  degree  of  them.  And  it  is  only  going  on  in 
the  same  way  of  finding  fault,  wherever  we  do  not  under- 
stand, and  we  shall  at  last  take  exception  against  all  pos- 
sibility of  guilt  and  consequent  unhappiness,  and  blame  our 
Maker,  if  we  are  not  brought  into  the  world  at  once  per- 
fect seraphs ;  if  this  earth  is  not  the  third  region  of  the 
heavens ;  if  we  cannot  give  ourselves  up  to  the  most  sor- 
did lusts  and  passions,  and  yet  be  prepared  for,  and  ad- 
mitted to  the  conversation  of  angels  and  archangels.  But 
when  weak  short-sighted  man  has  racked  his  narrow  in- 
vention to  start  or  to  solve  a  thousand  imaginary  difficul- 
ties in  the  economy  of  the  infinite  Governor  of  the  Uni- 
verse, it  will  be  found  at  last,  that  though  clouds  and 
darkness  are  around  about  him,  yet  righteousness  and  jus- 
tice are  the  habitation  of  his  throne. 

2  O 


290  OF  VIRTUE. 

SECTION  VI. 

Wherein  the  requisite  Coneurrenee  of  moral  J  gents  con- 
sists. Our  Species  under  a  threefold  Obligation;  the 
first  respecting  themselves,  the  second  their  Fellow, 
creatures,  and  the  third,  their  Creator.  Of  the  first  of 
these,  to  wit,  The  due  Care  and  Regulation  of  the  men- 
tat  and  animal  Matures. 

THE  requisite  concurrence  of  moral  agents,  of  what- 
ever rank  or  order  or  their  conformity  to  the  grand  design 
of  the  Universal  Governor,  which  is  the  ground  work  of 
universal  harmony,  perfection,  and  happiness  throughout 
the  creation    consists,  in  their  acting  according  to  truth 
rectitude   and   propriety   (in    their    respective"  stations' 
whether  higher  or  lower  in  the  scale  of  being,  whether  in 
states  of  discipline,  or  reward)  in  all  cases  or  circum- 
stances that  regard  either  themselves,  their  fellow- beines 
or  their  Creator.     Whatever  moral  agent  strictly  and  uS 
versally  observes  this  rule,  he  is  of  that  character,  which 

SrfJrfS  T°ml  bt'?  Cal1  S°°d'  is  amiable  in  the 
sight  of  the  Supreme  Judge  of  rectitude  and  goodness- 
and  it  is  as  certain,  that  every  such  being  must  be  finally 
happy,  as  that  the  nature  of  things  is  what  it  is,  and  that 
perfect  wisdom  and  goodness  must  act  rightly  in  govern 
ing  the  world.  &     ;       s 

What  makes  the  duty  of  such  poor,  short-sighted 
creatures  as  we  are  who  are  yet  but  in  the  infancy  of  our 
being,  is  likewise  the  grand  rule  which  every  angel  and 

mv  tol  I  ?n 0bsmeSA  N£*'  h  ™jld  be  blasphe- 
my to  think  of  the  Supreme  Governor  of  the  Universe  as 
conducting  his  immense  and  august  economy  otherwise 
than  according  to  the  sacred  rule  which  himself  has  pre- 
scribed for  the  conduct  of  his  reasonable  creatures  and 
which  is  an  attribute  of  his  own  infinitely  perfect  nature 
1  mean,  immutable  and  eternal  rectitude 

In  what  light  does  this  show  the  Dignity  of  Human  Na- 

7r  i n  '•  T?  W7'et  COme  to  be  ?  Made  in  th^  iniagc 
of  God  himself!  and  taught  to  imitate  his  example*  to 
what  heights  may  we  thus  come  to  be  raised  ?  Would  to 
™Ti  ^.^°l,Id  hcJ™"^t  to  consider  our  own  import- 
ance! Did  we  sufficiently  reverence  ourselves ;  we  should 


OF  VIRTUE.  291 

act  a  part  worthy  of  the  honours  for  which  our -Creator 
gave  us  our  being. 

The  rectitude  of  that  part  of  our  conduct,  which  re- 
gards ourselves,  consists  in  the  due  care  of  our  minds  and 
our  bodies,  which  two  parts  constitute  our  whole  nature 
in  the  present  state. 

Our  mental  powers  are  generally  considered  under  the 
heads  of  intelligence  and  passion.  The  office  of  the  first, 
to  judge,  and  distinguish  between  what  ought  to  be  pur- 
sued, and  what  avoided  ;  of  the  latter,  to  excite  to  action. 
Where  these  two  capital  powers  of  the  mind  hold  each  her 
proper  place,  where  the  understanding  is  faithfully  ex- 
erted in  the  search  of  truth,  and  the  active  powers  for  at- 
taining the  real  good  of  the  creature,  such  a  mind  may 
be  properly  said  to  be  duly  regulated,  and  in  a  good  con- 
dition. 

The  proper  exertion  of  the  understanding  is  in  inquiry 
into  important  truth;  and  that  understanding,  which  is 
furnished  with  extensive  and  clear  ideas  of  things,  and 
enriched  with  useful  and  ornamental  knowledge,  is  applied 
as  the  Divine  Wisdom  intended  every  rational  mind  in 
the  universe  should  be,  if  not  in  one  state,  yet  in  another ; 
if  not  universally  in  a  state  of  discipline,  as  that  we  are 
now  in,  yet  in  a  state  of  perfection,  to  which  we  hope  here- 
after to  be  raised.  And  whoever,  in  the  present  state,  is 
blest  with  the  proper  advantages  for  improving  his  mind 
with  knowledge  (as  natural  capacity,  leisure,  and  fortune) 
and  neglects  to  use  those  advantages,  will  hereafter  be 
found  guilty  of  having  omitted  an  important  part  of  his 
duty. 

Having  in  the  foregoing  book  treated  pretty  copiously 
of  the  improvement  and  conduct  of  the  understanding, 
there  is  the  less  occasion  to  enlarge  upon  that  subject  in 
this  place.  Let  us  therefore  proceed  to  consider  wherein 
the  rectitude  of  that  part  of  our  conduct,  which  regards 
the  active  powers  of  the  mind,  consists. 

In  general,  it  is  evident,  that  the  will  of  every  individual 
being  in  the  universe  ought  to  be  effectually  formed  to  an 
absolute  and  implicit  submission  to  the  disposal  of  the 
Universal  Governor,  which  is  saying,  in  other  words,  that 
every  created  being  in  the  universe  ought  to  study  perfect 
rectitude  in  all  his  desires  and  wishes.     He  who  desires 


292  OF  VIRTUE. 

anything  contrary  to  the  Divine  Nature,  and  will,  or  to 
what  is  right  and  good,  is  guilty  of  rebellion  against  the 
Supreme  Governor  of  the  Universe. 

The  passions,  as  they  are  commonly,  but  improperly 
galled,  of  the  human  mind,  are  various,  and  some  of  them 
of  so  mixed  and  compounded  a  nature,  that  they  are  not 
easily  ranged  under  classes.  The  following  are  the  prin- 
cipal. Love,  or  complacence,  or  desire,  whose  object  is, 
whatever  appears  to  us  good,  amiable,  or  fit  for  us, 
as  God,  our  fellow-creatures,  virtue,  beauty ;  joy,  ex- 
cited by  happiness,  real  or  imaginary,  in  possession,  or 
prospect;  sympathy,  or  a  humane  sense  of  the  good  or 
bad  condition  of  our  fellow- creatures ;  self-love;  ambi- 
tion, or  desire  of  glory,  true,  or  false  ;  covetousness  ;  love 
of  life  ;  appetites  of  eating,  drinking,  recreation,  sleeping, 
and  mutual  desires  of  the  sexes  ;  mirth  ;  anger  ;  hatred  ; 
envy  ;  malice  ;  revenge  ;  fear  ;  jealousy  ;  grief. 

It  is  the  whole  soul,  or  whole  man,  that  loves,  hates,  de- 
sires, or  fears.  Every  passion  is  a  motion  of  the  whole 
being,  toward  or  from  some  object,  which  appears  to  him 
either  desirable  or  disagreeable.  And  objects  appear  to 
us  desirable,  or  disagreeable,  either  from  the  real  excel- 
lence our  understanding  perceives  to  be  in  them,  as  in 
virtue,  beauty,  proportion, — and  their  contraries,  as  vice, 
deformity,  and  confusion  ;  or  from  some  peculiar  fitness, 
or  congruity  between  the  objects  and  our  particular  make, 
or  cast  of  mind,  which  is  the  pure  arbitrary  effect  of  our 
make  ;  as  in  the  reciprocal  love  of  the  sexes,  and  the  an- 
tipathy we  have  at  certain  creatures. 

Now  the  Divine  Will,  the  dignity  of  our  nature,  and 
perfect  rectitude,  unite  in  requiring  that  every  one  of  our 
passions,  and  appetites  be  properly  directed,  and  exerted 
in  a  proper  manner  and  degree  ;  not  that  they  be  rooted 
out  and  destro}  ed,  according  to  the  romantic  notion  of  the 
ancient  Stoic  Philosophers.  It  is  in  many  cases  equally 
unsuitable  to  the  dignity  of  our  nature,  that  the  motions 
of  our  minds  be  too  weak  and  languid,  as  that  they  be  too 
strong  and  vigorous.  We  may  be  as  faulty  in  not  suf- 
ficiently loving  God  and  Virtue,  as  in  loving  the  vanities 
of  this  world  too  much. 

Previous  to  what  may  be  more  particularly  observed  on 
the  conduct  of  the  natural  inclinations  or  passions  of  the 


OF  VIRTUE,  293 

mind,  it  mav  be  proper  briefly  to  mention  some  general 
directions,  which  will  be  found  of  absolute  necessity  to- 
wards our  undertaking  the  business  of  regulating  our  pas- 
sions with  any  reasonable  prospect  of  success. 

The  first  preparatory  direction  I  shall  give,  is,  To  habi- 
tuate ourselves  as  early,  and  as  constantly  as  possible,  to 
consideration. 

The  faculty  or  capacity  of  thought  is  what  raises  our 
nature  above  the  animal.  But  if  we  do  not  use  this  no- 
ble faculty  for  the  purpose  of  distinguishing  between 
right  and  wrong,  for  finding  out,  and  practising  our  duty, 
we  had  been  as  well  without  it.  Nay,  the  beasts  have  the 
advantage  of  those  of  our  species,  who  act  the  part  of 
beasts  ;  in  as  far  as  they  are  not  capable  of  being  called  to 
an  account,  or  punished,  as  unthinking  men,  for  the  neg- 
lect or  abuse  of  the  noblest  of  God's  good  gifts — sacred 
reason.  It  is  dreadful  to  think  of  the  conduct  of  by  far 
the  greatest  part  of  our  species,  in  respect  of  inconside- 
rateness.  Mankind  seem  to  think  nothing  more  is  neces- 
sary,  to  remove  at  once  all  guilt,  than  only,  to  drown  all 
thought  and  reflection,  and  then  give  themselves  up  to  be 
led  or  driven  at  the  pleasure  of  passion  or  appetite.  But 
how  will  those  poor  unthinking  creatures  be  hereafter  con- 
founded, when  they  find  the  voluntary  neglect  of  thought 
and  consideration  treated  as  a  most  attrocious  insult  upon 
the  goodness  of  the  Author  of  our  being  !  And  what  in- 
deed can  be  more  impious,  or  contemptuous,  than  for 
beings  endowed  with  a  capacity  of  thought  and  under- 
derstanding,  to  spurn  from  them  the  inestimable  gift  of 
heaven,  or  bury  that  talent  which  was  given  them  to  be 
used  for  the  most  important  purposes  of  distinguishing 
between  good  and  evil,  and  pursuing  their  own  happi- 
ness, and  then  pretend,  in  excuse  for  all  the  madness  they 
are  guilty  of,  that  they  did  not  think,  because  they  cared 
not  to  take  the  pains  ? 

If  thought  be  the  very  foundation  of  the  dignity  of  our 
nature  ;  if  one  man  is  preferable  to  another,  according  as 
he  exerts  more  reason  and  shows  more  understanding  in 
his  conduct,  what  must  be  said  of  those,  who  glory  in 
what  ought  to  be  their  shame,  in  degrading  themselves  to 
the  level  of  inferior  beings  ? 

Especially,  what  prospect  does  the  present  age  yield,  in 


J94  OF  VIRTUE. 

which  we  seem  to  vie  with  one  another,  who  shall,  carry 
pleasure  and  vanity  to  the  greatest  height,  and  who 
shall  do  the  most  to  discountenance  sober  thought,  and 
regular  conduct  ?  To  determine  of  times  and  seasons,  and 
how  long  a  nation  may  continue  to  flourish,  in  which 
luxury  and  extravagance  have  taken  place  of  all  that  is 
rational  and  manly  ;  is  what  I  do  not  pretend  to.  But  I 
appeal  to  those  who  best  understand  human  nature,  and 
the  nature  of  government,  and  who  know  the  historv  of 
other  states  and  kingdoms,  which  have  been  corrupted  in 
the  same  manner,  whether  we  have  not  every  thing  to  fear 
from  the  present  universal  inconsiderate  dissolution  of 
manners,  and  decay  of  virtue,  public  and  private.  May 
heaven  take  into  its  own  hands  the  reformation  of  a  de- 
generate people ;  and  give  comfort,  and  more  agreeable 
prospects,  to  those  who  bleed  inwardly,  for  the  decline 
of  their  sinking  country  ! 

To  return  ;  let  any  person  consider  the  natural  effects 
which  an  attentive  and  habitual  consideration  of  his  own 
character  and  conduct  are  likely  to  produce ;  and  then 
judge,  whether  it  is  not  his  duty  to  resolve  to  act  the  part 
of  a  reasonable  creature.  With  respect  to  the  conduct 
of  his  passions  and  appetites,  let  a  man  make  it  his  con- 
stant custom  to  spend  some  time  every  day  in  considering 
the  following  points,  viz.  Whether  he  indulges  passion 
and  appetite  beyond  the  intention  of  nature  ;  whether,  for 
example,  he  sets  his  heart  upon  gratifying  the  bodily  ap- 
petites, for  the  sake  of  luxurious  indulgence,  or  if  he  only 
consults  health  in  eating,  drinking,  sleeping,  and  recrea- 
tions ;  whether  he  gives  himself  up  to  anger  upon  small 
or  no  provocation  ;  whether  he  sets  his  love  wholly  upon 
the  vanities  of  iife,  or  if  he  aspires  habitually  after  some- 
thing nobler  than  any  worldly  pursuit,  and  so  of  the  rest. 
Let  a  man  accustom  himself  to  recollect  every  evening  the 
miscarriages  of  the  day  in  respect  of  his  passions  and  ap- 
petites, and  he  will  soon  find,  if  he  be  faithful  to  himself, 
which  are  prevalent,  and  ought  to  be  subdued. 

Unless  we  can  bring  our  minds  to  some  tolerable  degree 
of  tranquility  and  sobriety,  we  cannot  hope  to  redress  the 
irregularities  of  our  passions  and  inclinations.  What  con- 
dition must  that  soul  be  in,  which  is  continually  engaged, 
and  distracted  various  ways  after  pleasure,  honour,   or 


OF  VIRTUE.  295 

riches  ?  If  any  irregularity,  or  redundancy,  springs  up  in 
such  a  mind,  there  it  must  abide,  and  flourish,  and 
strengthen  more  and  more,  till  it  become  too  deeply  rooted 
ever  to  be  eradicated.  How  do  we  accordingly  see  the 
gay,  the  ambitious,  and  the  covetous,  give  themselves  to 
be  driven  in  a  perpetual  whirl  of  amusements  and  pursuits, 
to  the  absolute  neglect  of  all  that  is  worth  attending  to  ? 
But  if  the  men  of  business  cannot  find  time,  for  getting 
of  money,  and  the  sons  and  daughters  of  pleasure  are  too 
much  engaged  in  hearing  music,  seeing  plays,  and  in  the 
endless  drudgery  of  the  card-table ;  to  find  time  for  get- 
ting acquainted  with  themselves,  and  regulating  their 
minds,  I  can  tell  them  one  truth,  and  a  terrible  one  ;  They 
must  find  time  to  die,  whether  they  have  prepared  them- 
selves for  death  or  not. 

Before  any  thing  can  be  done  to  purpose  toward  bring- 
ing the  passions  under  due  subjection,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  bring  down  high  swelling  pride  and  self-opinion,  and  to 
cultivate  humility,  the  foundation  of  all  virtues.  For  this 
purpose,  it  will  be  our  wisdom  to  endeavour  to  view  our- 
selves in  the  light  we  may  suppose  we  appear  in  before 
that  eye  which  sees  all  things  exactly  as  they  are.  We 
are  therefore  to  consider,  that  we  do  not  appear  to  our 
Maker  under  the  same  distinctions  as  we  do  to  one 
another.  He  does  not  regard  one  as  a  king,  another  as  a 
hero,  or  a  third  as  a  learned  man  !  He  looks  down  from 
where  he  sits  enthroned  above  all  conceivable  height, 
through  the  vast  scale  of  being,  and  beholds  innumerable 
different  orders,  all  gradually  descending  from  himself, 
the  highest  created  nature  infinitely  inferior  to  his  own  origi- 
nal perfection  !  At  a  very  great  distance  below  the  summit 
of  created  excellence,  and  at  the  very  lowest  degree  of  ra- 
tional nature,  we  may  suppose  the  All-comprehensive  eye 
to  behold  our  humble  species  just  rising  above  the  ani- 
mal rank  !  How  poor  a  figure  must  we  make  before  him 
in  this  our  infancy  of  being,  placed  on  this  speck  of  crea- 
tion, creeping  about  like  insects  for  a  day,  and  then  sink- 
ing into  the  dust !  Nor  is  this  all.  For  what  appearance 
must  a  set  of  such  lawless  beings  as  we  are,  make  before 
that  eye  which  is  too  pure  to  look  upon  evil  without  ab- 
horrence ?  How  must  we  appear  to  perfect  rectitude  and 
purity,  guilty  and  polluted  as  we  are,  and  covered  with 


290  OF  VIRTUE. 

the  stains  of  wickedness,  which  are  the  disgrace  of  any  ra- 
tional nature ;  Is  pride  fit  for  such  an  order  of  creatures  as 
we  are,  in  our  present  state  of  humiliation  and  pollution  ? 
Can  we  value  ourselves  upon  any  thing  of  our  own  ? 
Have  we  any  thing,  that  we  have  not  received  ?  And  does 
any  reasonable  creature  boast  of  what  it  owes  to  another? 
Have  we  not  infinite  reason  to  loathe  ourselves,  and  to  be 
covered  with  shume  and  confusion?  And  are  shame  and 
pride,  in  any  respect,  consistent  ? 

The  few  advantages  we  possess  at  present  want  only  to 
be  considered,  to  convince  us  how  little  they  are  to  be 
boasted  of.  The  whole  of  our  bodily  perfections  may  be 
summed  up  in  two  words,  strength  and  beauty.  As 
for  the  first,  this  is  a  poor  qualification  to  boast  of,  in 
which  we  are,  to  say  the  least,  equalled  by  the  plodding 
ox,  and  stupid  ass.  Besides,  it  is  but  three  days  sickness, 
or  the  loss,  of  a  little  blood,  and  a  Hercules  becomes  as 
manageable  as  a  child  !  Who  then  would  boast  of  what  is 
so  very  precarious  ? 

As  to  beauty,  that  fatal  ornament  of  the  female  part  of 
our  species,  which  has  exhausted  the  human  wit  in  rap- 
tures to  its  praise,  which  so  often  proves  the  misfortune  of 
its  possessor,  and  the  disquiet  of  him  who  gives  himself 
to  the  admiration  of  it;  which  has  ruined  cities,  armies, 
and  the  virtue  of  thousands  :  What  is  beauty  ?  A  pleasing 
glare  of  white  and  red,  reflected  from  a  skin  incomparably 
exceeded  by  the  glossy  hue  of  the  humble  daisy,  which 
was  made  to  be  trod  upon  by  ever  quadruped.  The  mild 
glitter  of  an  eye,  outshone  by  every  dew-drop  on  the 
grass.  Is  it  inherent  in  the  structure  of  the  human  frame  ? 
No  : — Strip  off  the  scarf-skin  to  the  thickness  of  a  fish's 
scale  ;  and  the  charming  fair  grows  hideous  to  behold.  A 
sudden  fright  alarms  her;  a  fit  of  sickness  attacks  her ;  the 
roses  fly  from  her  cheeks ;  her  eyes  lose  their  fire  ;  she 
looks  haggard,  pale,  and  ghastly.  Even  in  all  the  bloom- 
ing pricle  of  beauty,  what  is  the  human  frame  ?  A  mass 
of  corruption  and  disease,  covered  over  with  a  fair  skin. 
When  the  animate  spirit  flies,  and  leaves  the  lovely  taber- 
nacle behind,  how  soon  does  horror  succeed  to  admira- 
tion ?  How  do  we  hasten  to  hide  out  of  sight  the  loath- 
some remains  of  beauty  !  Open  the  charnel-house  in 
which  a  very  little  while  ago,  the  celebrated  toast  was  laid. 


OF  VIRTUE.  297 

Who  can  now  bear  to  look  on  that  face,  shrivelled  and 
black,  and  loathsome,  which  used  to  be  the  delight  of 
every  youthful  gazer  ?  who  could  now  touch,  with  one 
finger,  her,  whose  very  steps  the  enamoured  youth  would 
have  kissed"?  Can  the  lover  himself  go  near,  without  stop- 
ping his  nose  at  her,  who  used  to  breathe  all  the  per- 
fumes of  the  spring  ?  If  beauty  is  a  subject  for  boasting, 
what  is  matter  of  mortification  ? 

The  accomplishments  of  the  mind  are  likewise  two, 
knowledge  and  virtue.  Is  there  any  reason  to  be  proud 
of  the  poor  attainments  we  can  in  the  present  state  gain  in 
knowledge,  of  which  the  perfection  is,  To  know  our  own 
weakness  ?  Is  that  an  accomplishment  to  be  boasted  of, 
which  a  blow  on  the  head,  or  a  week's  illness  will  destroy  ? 
As  to  our  attainments  in  virtue,  or  religion,  to  be  proud 
on  those  accounts,  would  be  to  be  nroud  of  what  we  did 
not  possess :  for  pride  would  annihilate  all  our  virtues, 
and  render  our  religion  vain.  If  our  virtue  and  religion 
be  not  founded  in  humility,  they  are  false  and  sophisti- 
cate ;  consequently  of  no  value.  And  who  would  be 
proud  of  what  is  of  no  value  ? 

The  pride  of  riches  is  yet  more  monstrous  than  any  of 
the  others.  To  turn  'the  good  gift  of  providence  into  van- 
ity and  wantonness  ;  to  value  one's  self  upon  what  is  alto- 
gether foreign  and  accidental,  and  makes  no  ptirt  of 
merit,  as  not  being  the  inherent  qualification  either  of 
body  or  mind,  nor  any  way  valuable  or  honourable,  but 
according  as  we  use  it :  What  can  be  conceived  more  re- 
mote from  common  sense,  unless  we  reflect  on  the  folly 
of  those  who  take  occasion  to  value  themselves  on  their 
birth,  and  are  proud  that  they  can  trace  back  a  great  many 
fathers,  grandfathers,  and  great-grandfathers,  whose  vir- 
tues and  vices  belonged  wholly  to  themselves,  and  are 
gone  with  them  ?  It  is  amazing  to  think  how  poor  a  pre- 
tence is  thought  sufficient  to  support  human  folly.  The 
family  of  the  cottager  is  as  ancient  as  that  of  the  lord  of 
the  manor,  if  it  could  be  traced.  And  in  every  family 
there  have  been  scoundrels,  as  well  as  heroes,  and  more 
of  the  former  than  the  latter. 

As  pride  was  the  introduction  to  all  the  evil  that  we 
know  of  in  the  moral  world,  so  humility  is  the  only  foun- 
dation, upon  which  the  structure  of  virtue  can  be  raised. 

2  p 


298  OF  VIRTU  l .. 

A  submissive,  tractable  temper  is  alone  capable  of  being 
formed  to  obedience.  A  mind  puffed  up  with  self-opin- 
ion, cannot  bring  itself  to  listen  to  advice,  or  to  yield  to 
just  authority.  The  wise  man  endeavours  to  attain  such 
a  knowledge  of  himself,  that  he  may  neither,  on  one  hand, 
act  a  part  unworthy  of  himself,  nor  on  the  other,  forget 
his  present  humble  station,  and  presume  on  any  thought 
or  action  unsuitable  to  it. 

Before  we  can  hope  to  go  any  great  length  in  the  due 
regulation  of  our  passions  or  inclinations,  we  must  resolve 
carefully  to  study,  and  thoroughly  to  master,  that  most 
useful  of  all  sciences,  self-knowledge. 

It  is  not  in  schools,  in  universities,  or  in  the  volumi- 
nous works  of  the  learned,  that  we  must  search  for  this 
most  important  branch  of  knowledge.  He,  who  would 
know  himself,  must  search  carefully  his  own  heart,  must 
study  diligently  his  own  character.  He  must  above  all 
things  study  the  peculiar  weaknesses  of  his  nature.  In 
order  to  find  out  these,  he  ought  to  recollect  often  what 
particular  follies  have  most  frequently  drawn  him  into 
difficulties  and  distresses.  If  he  finds  that  he  has  been 
often  engaged  in  quarrels,  and  disputes,  he  may  conclude, 
that  the  passion  of  anger  is  too  powerful  in  him,  and  wants 
to  be  brought  under  subjection.  If  he  recollects  various 
instances  of  his  behaving  in  a  lewd,  an  intemperate,  an  en- 
vious, or  a  malicious  manner,  and  that  he  has  often  had  oc- 
casion to  blame  himself  for  a  behaviour  which  has  brought 
upon  him  the  reflections  of  the  sober  and  regular  part  of 
people  ;  it  is  evident,  where  the  fault  lies,  and  what  is  to 
be  corrected.  But  conscience,  and.the  sacred  rule  of  life 
contained  in  holy  scripture,  are  more  certain  tests  by 
which  to  try  one's  character,  than  the  general  opinion  of 
mankind. 

Nothing  is  more  common,  than  for  a  person's  weakness 
to  be  known  to  every  body  but  himself.  Let  a  man  there- 
fore set  his  own  conduct  at  a  distance  from  himself,  and 
viewr  it  with  the  same  eye  as  he  may  suppose  a  stranger  re- 
gards it ;  or  with  the  same  as  he  himself  views  that  of 
another  person.  Let  one  endeavour  to  find  out  some  per- 
son, whose  behaviour  and  character  comes  the  nearest  to 
his  own ;  and  in  that,  view  himself  as  in  a  mirror.  And  as 
there  is  generally  some  resemblance  between  the  eharac- 


OF  VIRTUE.  299 

ters  of  those,  who  keep  up  a  long  friendship,  a  man  may, 
generally  speaking,  see  his  own  likeness  in  that  of  his 
friend. 

It  will  be  of  great  consequence  to  you  to  know  what 
character  is  drawn  of  you  by  your  enemy,  especially  if 
you  find  several  agree  in  the  same.  Enemies  will  help 
you,  more  than  friends,  in  discovering  your  faults;  for 
they  will  aggravate  what  your  friends  will  lessen. 

Attend  carefully  to  the  general  strain  of  your  thoughts. 
Observe  what  subjects  rise  oftenest,  and  abide  longest  in 
your  mind,  and  what  you  dwell  upon  with  the  greatest  de- 
light. You  will  by  that  find  out  what  passion,  or  appe- 
tite, has  the  ascendant,  and  ought  to  be  subdued.  It  is 
from  the  fulness  of  the  heart  that  the  mouth  speaks.  And 
from  a  man's  eager  manner  of  talking  on  certain  favourite 
subjects,  every  one,  who  spends  an  hour  in  his  company, 
finds  out  his  prevailing  passion,  while  he  himself  perhaps 
is,  all  his  life,  wholly  ignorant  of  it.  Lastly,  whoever 
means  in  earnest  to  come  at  the  true  knowledge  of  his 
own  weaknesses,  let  him  listen,  with  the  most  sacred  at- 
tention, to  every  motion  of  conscience.  There  is  more 
meaning  in  her  softest  whisper,  than  in  the  loudest  ap- 
plause of  the  unthinking  multitude. 

Another  direction  of  the  utmost  consequence  to  our 
setting  about  the  due  regulation  of  our  passions,  and 
indeed  to  our  behaving  in  general  in  a  manner  suitable  to 
the  true  dignity  of  our  nature,  is,  That  we  reverence  our- 
selves. 

The  effect,  which  a  just  and  habitual  sense  of  the  gran- 
deur and  importance  of  our  nature,  and  the  high  elevation 
Ave  are  formed  capable  of,  would  have  upon  us,  is,  To 
inspire  us  with  sentiments  worthy  of  ourselves,  and  suita- 
ble to  the  gracious  designs  of  the  Author  of  our  being. 
This  is  very  consistent  with  that  humility  which  becomes 
us  so  well  in  our  present  condition.  Humility  is  com- 
mendable :  Baseness  odious.  Did  men  habitually  con- 
sider themselves  as  formed  for  immortality,  they  would 
not  so  generally  set  their  whole  hearts  upon  the  present 
life.  Did  they  constantly  keep  in  mind  their  heavenly 
Original,  and  the  end  of  their  creation,  they  could  not 
thus  sink  their  very  souls  into  earth.  Did  they  often 
reflect  upon  the  worth  of  immortal  minds,    they  would 


300    "  OF  VIRTUE. 

not  think  of  satisfying  them  with  the  gross  and  sordid 
objects  of  sense.  Did  they  consider  themselves  as  intend- 
ed for  companions  of  angels  and  archangels,  they  would 
not,  by  indulging  carnal  appetites,  debase  themselves  to 
the  level  of  the  brutes.  Did  they  duly  reverence  them- 
selves as  beings  formed  for  the  contemplation  and  fruition 
of  infinite  perfection,  they  would  think  it  beneath  them  to 
place  their  happiness  in  the  enjoyment  of  any  thing  cre- 
ated. 

One  general  rule  carefully  attended  to,  and  the  judg- 
ment of  our  own  consciences  according  to  it  faithfully 
followed,  would  make  the  whole  conduct  of  the  passions 
and  appetites  clear,  and  would  prevent  our  falling  into  any 
error  in  indulging  or  suppressing  them.  The  rule  is,  To 
consider  what  good  purpose  is  to  be  gained  by  the  exer- 
tion of  every  active  power  of  the  mind  ;  and  to  take  care, 
that  in  the  conduct  of  every  passion  and  appetite,  we  have 
that  end  singly,  and  nothing  else  in  view. 

I  will  therefore  proceed  to  show,  in  a  particular  manner, 
how  this  rule  is  to  be  applied  in  the  regulation  of  those  of 
our  passions  and  appetites,  which  have  important  effects 
upon  our  moral  characters. 

That  motion  of  the  mind,  which  we  call  love,  or 
desire,  tends,  naturally  to  draw  and  engage  us  to  what- 
ever is  either  in  its  own  nature  truly  amiable  and  excellent, 
or  which  our  present  state  renders  it  necessary  that  she 
should  be  engaged  to.  There  is  no  danger  of  our  loving 
God,  or  virtue,  or  desiring  our  own  real  happiness  too  much. 
For  these  are  proper  and  worthy  objects  of  the  best  affec- 
tions of  every  rational  being  throughout  the  whole  of  its 
existence.  The  inclination  we  find  in  ourselves  toward 
such  objects,  is  the  pure  effect  of  our  having  clear  and 
rational  apprehensions  of  their  real,  internal  excellence ; 
not  of  any  factitious  or  arbitrary  taste  implanted  in  our 
minds,  or  any  arbitrary  fitness  in  such  objects  to  gain  our 
affections.  No  rational  unprejudiced  mind  in  the  universe 
ever  had,  or  can  have,  just  apprehensions  of  the  Divine 
perfections,  and  of  the  excellence  of  virtue,  that  has  not 
admired  and  loved  them.  And  the  clearer  the  apprehen- 
sions, the  stronger  must  be  the  affection. 

To  mix  and  confound  together  all  the  motions  of  the, 
mind,  and  to  range  them  all  indiscriminately  under  one- 


OF  VIRTUE.  301 

head,  is  reducing  the  whole  philosophy  of  human  nature 
to  a  mere  jumble.  Hunger  or  thirst,  for  example,  are  no 
more  to  be  considered  under  the  head  of  self-love,  than  anat- 
omv  under  that  of  astronomy.  The  pure  disinterested  love 
of  virtue  is  no  more  to  be  called  a  factitious  or  arbitrary  in- 
clination, as  the  mutual  desires  of  the  sexes  undoubtedly 
is,  than  gravitation  is  to  be  called  solidity  or  extension.  The 
bodily  appetites,  improperly  so  called,  are  plainly  factious 
and  temporary ;  for  we  can  conceive  of  a  living,  conscious, 
rational  being,  who  has  not  so  much  as  an  idea  of  them; 
nay,  the  time  will  come,  when  they  will  be  wholly  forgot 
by  at  least  some  of  our  own  species.  But  is  it  possible  to 
conceive  of  a  living,  conscious,  rational  being,  who,  if  left 
to  itself  free  and  uncorrupted,  should  be  able  to  avoid 
loving  virtue,  or  could  be  indifferent  to  goodness,  as  soon 
as  it  became  an  object  of  its  perfection  ?  Again,  the  fit- 
ness between  the  appetite  and  the  object  is  in  some  cases 
evidently  arbitrary.  Different  species,  therefore,  choose 
different  sorts  of  food,  which,  without  that  abitrary  fitness, 
would  be  alike  grateful  or  disagreeable  to  all  tastes ;  so 
that  grass  and  hay  would  be  as  acceptable  to  the  lion  and 
the  vulture,  as  to  the  horse  and  the  ox  ;  and  the  flesh  as 
agreeable  to  the  horse  and  the  ox,  as  to  the  lion  and  vul- 
ture. On  the  contrary,  in  other  cases,  this  fitness  is  by  no 
means  arbitrary  or  factitious,  but  unalterable  and  neces- 
sary. A  mind,  to  which  apparent  truth  was  no  object ; 
an  understanding,  which  saw  no  beauty  or  desirableness  in 
undoubted  virtue  and  rectitude,  must  be  perverted  from 
its  natural  state,  and  debauched  out  of  itself. 

Our  love  to  earthly  objects  may  easily  be  carried  to 
excess.  For  it  is  evident,  that  a  very  moderate  attachment 
is  sufficient,  where  the  connexion  is  intended  to  hold  only 
for  the  present  short  life.  As  on  the  other  hand,  those 
objects  which  are  intended  to  be  the  final  happiness  of  our 
being,  ought  to  be  pursued  with  the  utmost  ardency  of 
affection.  To  pursue,  with  an  unbounded  desire,  an  object, 
whose  nature  and  perfections  are  bounded  within  very 
narrow  limits,  is  a  gross  absurdity;  as  to  be  cold  and  indif- 
ferent to  that  which  is  of  inestimable  worth,  is  contrary  to 
sound  reason.  But  to  observe  the  general  conduct  of 
mankind,  one  would  think  they  considered  God  and 
virtue,  and  eternal  happiness,  as  objects  of  little  or  no  con- 


302  OF  VIRTUE. 

sequence;. and  good  eating  and  drinking,  pleasure  and 
wealth  as  alone  worth  the  attention  of  reasonable  beings. 
One  would  imagine  they  believed  that  the  latter  were  to 
be  the  everlasting  enjoyment  of  the  rational  mind,  and  the 
former  the  transitory  amusement  of  a  few  years  at  most. 
What  do  mankind  pursue  with  the  greatest  eagerness  ? 
What  are  their  hearts  most  set  upon?  What  does  their 
conversation  most  run  upon?  What  is  their  last  thought 
at  night  and  their  first  in  the  morning  ?  and  what  em- 
ploys their  minds  through  the  whole  day  ?  I  am  afraid  the 
objects,  whiqh  engage  their  supreme  attention,  are  of  no 
higher  a  nature  than  how  to  get  money ;  to  raise  them- 
selves, as  they  very  improperly  call  it,  in  the  world ;  to 
concert  a  party  of  pleasure,  or  some  other  scheme  of  as 
little  consequence.  Now,  if  the  present  were  to  be  the 
final  state,  this  turn  of  mind  might  be  proper  enough. 
But  that  a  being  formed  for  immortality  should  set  his 
whole  affections  upon  this  mortal  life,  is  as  if  a  traveller, 
going  to  a  distant  country,  should  make  abundant  provi- 
sion lor  the  voyage,  and  spend  his  whole  fortune  by  the 
way,  leaving  nothing  for  his  comfortable  settlement  when 
he  arrives,  where  he  is  to  pass  his  days. 

Suppose  an  unbodied  spirit,  of  the  character  of  most 
human  minds,  entered  upon  the  future  state,  left  to  itself, 
and  neither  raised  to  positive  happiness,  nor  condemned  to 
positive  punishment ;  I  ask,  what  must  be  the  condition 
of  such  a  being  ?  What  can  be  more  deplorable  than  the 
situation  of  a  mind,  which  has  lost  all  the  objects  of  its 
delight,  and  can  enjoy  nothing  of  what  makes  the  happiness 
of  the  state  in  which  it  is  placed  ?  For,  alas,  there  is  no 
eating  and  drinking,  no  stock-jobbing  or  trafficking,  no 
enjoyment  of  wine  and  women,  no  parliamenteering  in  the 
world  of  spirits ;  and  in  this  world  of  spirits  we  shall  all 
find  ourselves  before  many  years  be  gone.  What  then  is 
our  wisdom  ?  Not  surely  to  set  our  whole  affections  upon 
this  present  fleeting  state  ;  but  to  habituate  ourselves  to 
think  of  the  eternal  existence  hereafter  as  the  principal  end 
of  our  being,  and  what  ought  therefore  to  fill  up  the  great- 
est part  of  our  attention,  and  to  engage  our  warmest'affec- 
tions  and  most  eager  pursuit. 

That  any  being  in  the  universe  should  ever  bring  itself 
to  hate  itself,  or  desire  its  own  misery,  as  misery,  isimpos,- 


OF  VIRTUE.  303 

sible.  Though  a  reasonable  self-love,  rightly  directed,  is 
highly  commendable,  nothing  is  more  easy  or  common, 
than  to  err  egregiously  with  respect  to  self-love.  Most 
people  love  themselves  so  very  much,  and  in  a  way  so 
absurd,  that  they  love  nothing  else,  except  what  is  closely 
connected  with  themselves  :  and  that  they  love  more  for 
their  own  sakes  than  any  thing  else.  That  mind  must  be 
wonderfully  narrow  that  is  wholly  wrapt  up  in  itself.  But 
this  is  too  visibly  the  character  of  most  human  minds. 
The  true  standard*  of  rectitude  as  to  self-love,  is,  that  every- 
one love  himself  as  God  maybe  supposed  to  love  him; 
that  is,  as  an  individual  among  many.  To  the  Divine 
Mind  every-  object  appears  as  it  really  is.  We  ought  there- 
fore to  endeavour  to  see  things  in  the  light  in  which  thev 
appear  to  that  Eye  which  comprehends  the  universal  sys. 
tern.  If  we  thus  enlarged  our  conceptions,  we  should 
never  suffer  our  whole  regards  to  be  possessed  by  any  one 
finite  object  whatever,  not  even  by  self.  Nor  should  we 
ever  think  of  preferring  ourselves  unjustly  to  others,  or 
raising  ourselves  upon  their  ruin.-  For  that  is  to  act  as  if 
a  man  did  not  consider  himself  as  a  part,  and  a  very  small 
part  of  an  immense  whole,  but  as  the  only  being  in  the 
universe  ;  than  which  nothing  can  be  more  monstrous.  If 
we  loved  ourselves  as  our  Maker  loves  us,  we  should  not 
think  of  being  partial  to  our  faults ;  but  should  view  them 
with  the  same  eye  as  we  do  those  of  others.  It  is  a  great 
unhappiness  that  we  cannot  root  out  of  our  foolish  hearts 
this  shameful  weakness.  Does  it  at  all  alter  the  real  evil 
of  a  bad  action,  that  it  was  I  who  did  it  ?  Will  a  lie  become 
a  truth  in  any  mouth  ?  Is  not  every  man's  self  as  much 
self,  and  as  dear  to  him  as  I  am  to  myself?  And  is  the  im- 
mutable and  eternal  nature  of  right  and  wrong  to  be  changed 
by  every  man's  fancy?  If  I  see  injustice,  falsehood,  or 
impiety  in  another  in  the  most  odious  light,  does  not  a 
third  person  sec  them  in  me  in  the  same  manner  ?  And  does 
not  the  all-piercing  Eye  of  heaven  see  them  alike  in  all  ? 
If  I  am  shocked  at  the  vices  of  another  person,  have  I  not 
a  thousand  times  more  reason  to  be  startled  at  my  own  ? 
Those  of  another  can  never  do  me  the  prejudice  which  my 
own  can  do  me.  The  plague  at  Constantinople  can  never 
affect  me,  as  if  it  attacked  me  in  my  own  person. 

The  love  of  praise,  or  desire  of  distinction,  is  a  passion 


304  OF  VIRTUE. 

as  necessary  to  a  thinking  being,  as  that  which  prompts 
it  to  preserve  its  existence.  But  as  this  tendency,  like  all 
the  others  which  enter  into  the  human  make,  ought  to  be 
subject  to  the  government  of  reason,  it  is  plain,  that  no 
approbation,  but  that  of  the  wise  and  good,  is  of  any  real 
value,  or  deserves  the  least  regard.  The  advantage  gained 
by  the  exertion  of  this  universal  propensity,  is,  that  men 
may  be  thereby  excited  to  such  a  eourse  of  action,  as  will 
deserve  the  approbation  of  the  wise  and  good.  But  the 
love  of  undistinguishing  applause  will  never  produce  this, 
effect.  For  the  unthinking  multitude  generally  give  their 
praise  where  it  is  least  due,  and  overlook  real  merit.  One 
Charles  of  Sweden,  or  Lewis  of  France,  the  common 
furies  of  the  world,  shall  receive  more  huzzas  from  the 
maddening  crowd,  than  ten  Alfreds  the  fathers  of  their  coun- 
try. So  that  the  desire  of  promiseuous  praise,  as  it  defeats 
the  moral  design  of  the  passion,  is  altogether  improper  and 
mischievous,  instead  of  being  useful.  The  rule  for  the 
conduct  of  this  passion  is,  To  act  such  a  part  as  shall  de- 
serve praise ;  but  in  our  conduct  to  have  as  little  regard 
as  possible  to  praise.  A  good  man  will  dare  to  be  meanly 
or  ill  thought  of  in  doing  well ;  but  he  will  not  venture  to 
do  ill  in  order  to  be  commended. 

The  passion,  or  emotion  which  we  call  anger,  serves 
the  same  purpose  as  the  natural  weapons  with  which  the 
animal  creation  is  furnished,  as  teeth,  horns,  hoofs,  and 
claws ;  I  mean  for  our  defence  against  attacks  and  insults. 
Cool  reason  alone  would  not  have  sufficiently  animated  us 
in  our  own  defence,  to  secure  us  in  the  quiet  possession  of 
our  natural  rights,  any  more  than  it  would  alone  have  sug- 
gested to  us  the  due  care  and  nourishment  of  our  bodies. 
To  supply,  therefore,  the  deficiencies  of  reason  in  our  pres- 
ent imperfect  state,  passion  and  appetite  come  in,  and  are 
necessary  to  the  human  composition.  And  it  would  have 
been  as  much  to  the  purpose,  that  the  ancient  Stoics  should 
have  directed  their  disciples  to  eradicate  hunger  and  thirst, 
as  anger,  grief,  love,  and  the  other  natural  passions.  It 
is  indeed  too  true,  that  in  our  present  imperfect  state  we  are 
in  much  greater  danger  of  yielding  too  much  to  our  pas- 
sions, than  of  subduing  them  too  thoroughly;  and  there- 
fore we  find  all  wise  teachers,  and  particularly  the  best  of 
teachers,  who  came  from  heaven  to  instruct  us,  labouring 


OF  VIRTUE.  305 

to  inculcate  upon  mankind  the  conquest  of  passion  and  ap- 
petite, without  setting  any  bounds  to  the  length  they  would 
have  the  conquest  carried ;  as  knowing,  that  there  is  no 
need  to  caution  men  against  an  excess  on  this  safest  side. 
And,  with  respect  to  the  passion  we  are  now  treating  of,  if 
a  person  does  not  show  himself  wholly  incapable  of  being 
moved,  if  he  does  not  directly  invite  injuries  and  assaults, 
by  bearing  without  all  measure;  if  he  does  but  from  time 
to  time  show  that  he  has  in  him  too  much  spirit  to  suffer 
himself  to  be  trampled  upon  ;  I  am  clearly  of  opinion,  that 
he  cannot  exert  this  passion  too  seldom,  or  too  moderately. 

If  we  take  the  same  method  for  coming  at  the  true  state 
of  things  in  this,  as  in  other  cases,  viz.  endeavouring,  as 
before  directed  to  get  that  view  of  them  which  appears  be- 
fore the  all-comprehensive  eye  of  God,  we  shall  then  see 
how  absurd  the  excessive  indulgence  of  this  lawless  pas- 
sion is.  To  the  Supreme  Mind  we  appear  a  set  of  infirm, 
short-sighted,  helpless  beings,  engaged  to  one  another  by 
nature,  and  the  necessity  of  our  affairs  ;  incapable  of  great- 
ly prejudicing  one  another  ;  all  very  nearly  upon  a  footing  ; 
all  guilty  before  him  ;  all  alike  under  his  government,  and 
ali  to  stand  hereafter  before  the  same  judgment-seat. 
How  ridiculous  must  then  our  fatal  quarrels,  our  import- 
ant points  of  honour,  our  high  indignation,  and  our  mighty 
resentments  appear  before  him  ?  Infinitely  more  con- 
temptible than  the  contentions  between  the  frogs  and 
mice  do  to  us  in  the  ludicrous  ancient  poem  ascribed  to 
Homer. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Let  it  be  considered  also  how  the 
impiety  of  our  hatred  and  resentment,  must  appear  before 
that  Eye,  which  sees  all  things  as  they  are.  That  the  Su- 
preme Governor  of  the  world  should  choose  to  vindicate 
to  himself  the  privileges  of  searching  the  hearts,  and  of 
knowing  the  real  characters  of  all  his  creatures,  is  no  more 
than  might  be  expected.  Whoever  therefore  presumes 
to  pronounce  upon  the  character  or  state  of  any  of  his  fel- 
low-creatures before  God,  assumes  the  incommunicable 
privilege  of  Divinity.  Now,  every  man  who  hates  his 
fellow -creature,  must  first  conclude  him  to  be  wicked  and 
hateful  in  the  sight  of  God,  or  he  must  hate  him  whom 
God  loves  ;  which  is  such  a  piece  of  audacious  opposition 
to  the  Divine  Mind,  as  hardly  any  man  will  confess  him- 

2   Q 


306  OF  VIKTUL. 

self  capable  of.  Again  for  a  private  person  to  take  upon 
him  to  avenge  an  injury,  (in  any  way  besides  having  re- 
course to  lawful  authority  which  is  founded  in  the  Divine) 
what  is  it  less  than  assuming  the  authority  of  God  himself, 
whose  privilege  it  is  to  decide  finally,  either  immediately, 
or  by  those  whom  he  has  authorised  for  that  purpose  ? 

Farther,  let  the  effects  of  this  unruly  passion,  carried  to 
its  utmost  length,  and  indulged  universally,  be  consider- 
ed, that  we  may  judge  whether  it  be  most  for  the  good  of 
the  whole,  that  we  conquer,  or  give  way  to  it.  Experi- 
ence shows,  that  every  passion  and  appetite  indulged, 
would  proceed  to  greater  and  greater  lengths  without  end. 
Suppose  then  every  man  to  lay  the  reins  upon  the  neck  of 
his  fury,  and  give  himself  up  to  be  driven  by  it  without 
controul  into  all  manner  of  madness  and  extravagance  : 
The  obvious  consequence  must  be  the  destruction  of  the 
weaker  by  the  stronger,  till  the  world  became  a  desert. 

Whatever  is  right  for  one  man  to  practice,  is  equally 
right  for  all,  unless  circumstances  make  a  difference.  If 
it  be  proper  that  one  man  indulge  anger  without  a  cause, 
no  circumstance  can  make  it  improper  that  all  do  so.  If 
it  be  proper  that  one  man  suffer  his  passion  to  hurry  him 
on  to  abuse,  or  destroy  an  innocent  person,  it  is  proper 
that  all  do  so,  and  that  the  world  be  made  one  vast  scene 
of  blood  and  desolation. 

People  ought  to  be  very  careful  in  the  younger  part  of 
life,  not  to  give  way  to  passion  i  for  all  habits  strengthen 
with  years.  And  he,  who  in  youth  indulges  an  angry  and 
fretful  temper,  by  the  time  he  comes  into  years,  is  likely 
to  be  unsufferable  by  his  peevishness  ;  which,  though  not 
so  fatal  and  terrible  as  a  furious  temper,  is  more  frequent- 
ly troublesome,  and  renders  the  person  who  gives  way  to 
it  more  thoroughly  contemptible.  The  excessive  strength 
of  all  our  passions  is  owing  to  our  neglect  to  curb  them  in 
time,  before  they  become  unconquerable. 

When  therefore  you  feel  passion  rising,  instead  of  giving 
it  vent  in  outrageous  expressions,  which  will  inflame  both 
your  own,  and  that  of  the  person  you  are  angry  with,  ac- 
custom yourself  to  call  reflection  to  your  assistance.  Say 
to  yourself,  What  is  there  in  this  affair  of  sufficient  con- 
sequence to  provoke  me  to  expose  myself?  Had  I  not 
better  drop   the  quarrel,  if  the  offence  were  much  more 


OF  VIRTUE.  307 

attrocious,  than  be  guilty  of  folly?  If  I  have  lost  money, 
or  honour,  by  this  injurious  person,  must  I  lose  by  him 
my  wits  too  ?  How  would  a  Socrates >  or  a  Phocian,  have 
behaved  on  such  an  occasion  ?  How  did  a  greater  than 
cither  behave  on  an  occasion  of  incomparably  greater  prov- 
ocation, while  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  have  struck  his 
enemies  dead  with  a  word  ?  True  greatness  appears  in 
restraining,  not  giving  a  loose  to  passion. 

Make  a  resolution  for  one  day  not  to  be  put  out  of 
temper  upon  any  account.  If  you  can  keep  it  one  day, 
you  may  two  ;  and  so  on.  To  keep  you  in  mind  of 
your  resolution,  you  may  wear  a  ring  upon  a  particular 
finger,  or  use  any  other  such  contrivance.  You  may  ac- 
custom yourself  never  to  say  any  thing  peevish,  without 
thinking  it  over  as  long  as  you  could  count  six  deliberate- 
ly. After  you  have  habituated  yourself  for  some  time  to 
this  practice,  you  will  find  it  as  unnatural  to  blunder  out 
rash  speeches,  as  you  do  now  to  deliberate  before  you 
speak. 

Envy  and  malice  are  rather  corruptions  of  natural  pas* 
sions,  than  the  natural  growth  of  the  human  heart.  For 
the  very  least  degree  of  them  is  wicked  and  unnatural  as 
well  as  the  greatest.  Emulation,  out  of  which  arises 
envy,  is  one  of  the  noblest  exertions  of  a  rational  mind. 
To  aspire  to  equal  whatever  is  truly  great  in  a  fellow-crea- 
ture, what  can  show  more  conspicuously  true  greatness 
of  mind '?  What  worthy  mind  was  ever  without  this  dis- 
position ?  But  to  look  with  an  evil  eye  upon,  or  to  hate 
that  excellence  in  another,  which  we  cannot,  or  will  not 
emulate,  is  the  very  disposition  of  an  evil  spirit :  for  it  is 
hating  a  person  for  the  very  thing  which  ought  to  excite 
love  and  admiration. 

Some  of  the  other  excesses  we  are  apt  to  run  into  in 
indulging  our  passions  have  to  plead  for  themselves,  that 
the  exertion  of  those  passions  is  attended  with  a  sensible 
pleasure.  But  anger,  hatred,  malice,  envy,  revenge,  and 
all  the  irascible  passions,  the  more  strongly  they  operate, 
the  greater  the  torment  they  produce.  And  it  must  be 
an  extraordinary  degree  of  virulence  in  a  mind,  that  makes 
it  choose  to  torture  itself  for  the  sake  of  exerting  its  spite 
against  another.  Which  spite  also,  through  the  good- 
ness of  an  over-ruling  Providence,  instead  of  hurting  the 


308  OF  VIRTUE. 

person  attacked,  most  commonly  recoils  in  vengeance 
upon  him  who  has  indulged  in  himself  so  devilish  a  tem- 
per. 

The  natural  inclination  we  have  to  sympathise  with  our 
fellow-creatures,  to  make  their  ease  our  own,  and  to  suffer 
a  sensible  pain  when  we  think  of  their  misery  or  misfor- 
tune, was  placed  in  us  to  draw  us  more  effectually  than 
reason  alone  would,  to  endeavour  to  relieve  them.  It  is 
therefore  evident,  that  this  motion  of  the  mind  ought  to 
be  encouraged  and  strengthened  in  us,  because  we  cannot 
be  too  much  attached  to  our  fellow-creatures,  at  the  same 
time  that  we  ought  10  act  chiefly  upon  rational  motives  in 
endeavouring  to  relieve  the  distresses  of  our  brethren  of 
mankind. 

Fear  is  a  natural  passion  of  the  mind,  and  ought  no  more 
to  be  eradicated  than  any  of  the  others.  A  reasonable 
caution  against,  and  desire  of  avoiding  whatever  would 
prove  in  any  degree  hurtful,  is  the  prudent  motion  of  every 
rational  created  mind.  The  conduct  of  this  passion  con- 
sists in  directing  our  fear,  or  caution,  to  proper  objects. 
To  fear  poverty,  or  pain,  or  death,  more  than  guilt ;  to 
dread  the  misery  of  an  hour,  or  of  a  life,  more  than  a  future 
punishment  for  ages,  is  fearing  a  lesser  evil  more  than  a 
greater,  choosing  an  extreme  degree  of  misery  for  the  sake 
of  avoiding  an  inconsiderable  one. 

Though  a  dastardly  spirit  is,  generally  speaking,  a  proof 
of  baseness  of  mind,  it  dees  not  therefore  follow,  that  to 
dare  to  attempt  any  thing,  however  unreasonable  or  unjust, 
is  true  fortitude.  A  bully,  a  drunkard,  or  a  lunatic,  will 
attack  what  a  wise  man  will  avoid  encountering  with.  For 
the  natural  or  adventitious  vivacity  of  temper  in  such  per- 
sons, which  is  owing  to  bodily  constitution,  or  intoxica- 
tion by  liquor,  or  to  a  preternatural  flow  of  spirits  hurry- 
ing them  on,  and  reason  being  in  them  very  weak,  or 
altogether  insufficient  for  restraining  their  impetuosity,  it 
is  no  wonder  if  they  run  into  the  most  extravagant  and 
dangerous  adventures,  nor  if  they  sometimes  carry  all 
before  them.  For  the  very  notion  that  a  person,  or  body 
of  men,  are  resolute  to  a  desperate  degree,  renders  tin  m 
much  more  formidable  to  a  people  who  have  not,  or  per- 
haps cannot  work  themselves  up  to  the  same  pitch.  True 
courage  is  cool  and  deliberate,  founded  in  a  strong  attach- 


OF  VIRTUE.  309 

ment  to  justice,  truth,  love  of  one's  country,  and  of  true 
glory ;  and  is  regulated  and  restrained  by  wisdom  and 
goodness.  True  fortitude  appears  infinitely  more  glori- 
ous in  the  faithful  martyr,  who  subdued  by  want  and 
imprisonment,  goes  on  without  fear,  but  without  pride, 
friendless  and  alone,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  insulting 
crowd  gives  up  his  body  to  the  devouring  flames  in  honour 
of  God  and  his  truth,  than  in  the  blustering  comman- 
der at  the  head  of  his  thousands,  who  marches  to  battle, 
and,  in  confidence  of  the  might  of  his  arm  already  assures 
himself  of  victory  ;  and  yet  the  latter  is  immortilized  by  the 
venal  strain  of  flattery,  while  the  former  is  passed  over  in 
silence. 

The  loss  of  some  good  which  wre  have  either  enjoyed 
or  had  reasonable  hopes  of  attaining,  or  the  arrival  of  some 
positive  evil,  is  a  reasonable  subject  of  reasonable  grief  ^ 
and  the  concern  of  mind  ought  to  be  proportioned  to  the 
greatness  of  the  loss,  or  the  severity  of  the  calamity  which 
is  come  upon  us.  As  for  the  afflictions  of  this  present 
life,  such  as  the  loss  of  riches,  of  health,  of  the  favor  of 
the  great,  of  the  good  opinion  of  our  fellow-creatures,  of 
friends  or  relations,  by  removal  to  distant  places,  or  by 
death  ;  these,  and  the  like,  being  all  temporary,  we  show 
our  wisdom  most  by  bearing  them  with  patience,  or  even 
most  of  them  with  indifference,  in  consideration  of  the 
prospect  we  have,  if  we  be  virtuous,  of  having  all  such 
losses  made  up  to  us  hereafter  ;  of  being  hereafter  pos- 
sessed of  the  true  and  unfading  riches  ;  of  having  the  in- 
tegrity of  our  characters  cleared  before  men  and  angels  ; 
of  being  restored  to  our  valuable  friends  and  relations, 
and  united  to  them  in  a  better  and  happier  state,  where 
they  and  we  shall  be  fitter  for  true  and  exalted  friendship, 
and  where  we  shall  no  more  fear  a  cruel  separation. 

There  is  but  one  just  subject  of  great  or  lasting  grief 
that  I  know  of;  it  is  the  consideration  of  our  guilt  before 
God.  That  we  ourselves,  or  others,  should  ever  have  of- 
fended the  kindest  and  best  of  beings,  whom  we  were,  by 
all  the  ties  of  nature  and  reason,  obliged  to  love,  to  obey, 
and  to  adore  ;  this  is  a  grief  that  will  lie  heavy  upon  every 
considerate  mind :  And  till  that  happy  day  comes,  when 
all  tears  are  to  be  wiped  away,  and  all  griefs  buried  in  ob- 
livion, the  thought  of  our  own  guilt,  and  that  of  our  un- 


310  OF  VIRTUE. 

happy  unthinking  fellow-creatures,  ought  not  for  a  long 
time  to  be  out  of  our  view.  Nor  is  there  any  degree  of 
concern  (inferior  to  what  might  disqualify  us  for  the  per- 
formance of  the  duties  of  life)  too  great  for  the  occasion. 
Nor  can  any  thing  be  imagined  more  absurd,  than  for  a 
reasoning  being  to  express  more  uneasiness  about  a  trifling- 
loss  of  affliction,  which,  like  all  temporal  distresses,  will, 
after  a  kw  years  be  to  us,  as  if  they  had  never  been  ;  at 
the  same  time  that  the  consideration  of  those  offences 
against  the  Majesty  of  heaven,  which  may  have  fatal  ef- 
fects upon  their  final  state,  raises  no  uneasiness  in  their 
minds.  That  a  thinking  creature  (or  rather  a  creature 
capable  of  thought)  should  fret  for  the  loss  of  a  mortal 
friend  or  relation,  whom  we  always  knew  to  be  mortal, 
and  be  under  no  convern  for  his  having  alienated  from 
himself  by  his  wickedness,  the  favour  of  the  most  power- 
ful, the  most  faithful,  and  the  kindest  friend.  That  a  ra- 
tional creature  should  bitterly  lament  the  lost  patronage 
of  a  prince,  or  peer,  whose  favour  he  knew  to  be  uncer- 
tain and  precarious,  and  give  himself  no  trouble  about  his 
having  forfeited  the  protection  of  Him,  upon  whom  he 
depends  for  every  moment's  existence,  and  every  degree 
of  happiness  he  can  enjoy  in  the  present  life,  and  through 
all  eternity  !  Surely  such  grief  is  indulged  with  great 
impropriety  ! 

While  we  live  in  the  body,  it  is  plainly  necessary,  that  we 
bestow  a  reasonable  attention  upon  the  body,  for  provid- 
ing whatever  may  be  useful  for  its  health  and  support.  To 
think  of  eradicating,  or  destroying  the  appetites,  would 
be  making  sure  of  the  destruction  of  the  body.  The  point 
we  ought  to  have  in  view  fs,  therefore,  to  conduct  and 
regulate  them  so,  as  best  to  answer  the  wise  ends,  for  which 
they  were  planted  in  our  nature. 

That  every  living  creature  should  have  in  its  make  a 
strong  desire  to  preserve  life,  was  necessary.  But  in  ra- 
tional minds  all  natural  instincts  are  to  be  under  the  con- 
troul  of  reason  ;  the  superior  faculty  to  govern  the  inferior. 
It  is  evident,  that  there  may  be  many  cases,  in  which  rec- 
titude and  propriety  may  require  us  to  get  over  the  instinct- 
ive love  of  life,  as  well  as  to  conquer  the  influence  of  the 
other  natural  passions.  Whoever  loves  life  more  than  vir- 
tue, religion,  or  his  country,  is  guilty  of  a  gross  absurd- 


OF  VIRTUE.  311 

ity  in  preferring  that,  which  is  of  less  consequence,  to  that 
which  is  of  greater.  We  are  always  to  endeavour,  as  be- 
fore observed,  to  view  things  in  the  light,  they  may  be 
supposed  to  appear  in  to  the  All-comprehensive  Mind. 
But  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe,  that  my  life  appears 
to  the  Supreme  Mind  of  such  importance,  that  it  ought 
to  be  preserved  to  the  prejudice  of  sacred  and  eternal  truth ; 
that  it  is  better,  the  people  should  perish  for  one  man,  than 
one  man  for  the  people. 

If  the  heroes  and  sages  among  the  Heathens,  who  had 
no  such  sure  prospect  of  a  future  existence  as  we  have, 
or  may  have  ;  if  they,  whose  views  of  a  life  to  come,  were 
rather  strong  desires,  than  well  established  hopes ;  if  they 
showed  such  a  contempt  of  the  present  life,  as  to  give  it 
up  with  joy  and  triumph  for  the  service  of  their  country, 
and  for  the  sake  of  truth ;  of  which  historv  furnishes  in- 
stances  almost  innumerable;  it  were  to  be  expected,  that 
we  should,  in  the  contempt  of  life,  greatly  exceed  them ; 
which,  to  our  shame,  is  far  from  being  the  case. 

A  competency  of  the  good  things  of  life  being  neces-. 
sary  for  the  support  of  life,  it  is  evident,  that  a  reasonable 
degree  of  care,  industry,  and  frugality,  is  altogether  pro- 
per ;  of  which  I  have  treated  pretty  copiously  in  the  first 
part  of  this  work.  Whenever  this  care  for  the  convenien- 
ces of  life  proceeds  to  such  a  length,  as  to  produce  a  love 
of  riches  for  their  own  sake,  it  is  then,  that  a  man  shows 
himself  bewildered  and  lost  to  all  rational  and  judicious 
views,  and  enchanted  with  a  mere  imaginary  object  of  no 
real  value  in  itself.  That  a  man  should  bestow  his  whole 
labour  in  heaping  up  pieces  of  metal,  or  paper,  and  should 
make  his  very  being  wretched,  because  he  cannot  get  to- 
gether the  quantity  he  aims  at,  which  he  does  not  need, 
nor  would  use,  if  he  had  them  in  his  possession  ;  is  much 
the  same  wisdom,  as  if  he  spent  his  life  in  filling  his  mag- 
azines with  cockle-shells,  or  pebbles.  If  it  be  likewise 
remembered,  that  every  passion  indulged,  becomes  in  time 
an  unconquerable  habit,  and  that  a  fixed  love  of  sordid 
riches  is  altogether  unsuitable  to  the  spiritual,  immortal 
state,  for  which  we  were  intended,  where  gold  and  silver 
will  be  of  no  value;  if  it  be  considered,  that  a  great  de- 
cree of  avarice  is  wholly  inconsistent  with  every  generous 
sentiment,  and  even  with  common  honesty  ;  and  that  any 


312  OF  VIRTUE. 

constant  pursuit  whatever,  which  engages  the  whole  atten- 
tion, and  takes  it  off  from  those  sublime  views  of  futurity, 
and  those  preparations  for  immortality,  which  are  absolutely 
necessary  toward  our  being  found  fit  for  that  final  state,  is 
highly  criminal  ;  if  these,  and  various  other  considerations, 
be  allowed  their  due  weight,  it  will  appear,  that  covet- 
ousness  is  a  vice  altogether  unsuitable  to  the  dignity  of  our 
nature,  and  that  the  safe  side  to  err  on,  with  regard  to  rich- 
es, is,  To  be  too  indifferent,  rather  than  too  anxious  about 
them. 

If  the  sole  design  of  the  appetite  of  hunger  be,  to  ob- 
lige us  mechanically,  by  means  of  pain,  to  take  that  due 
care  of  supporting  the  body  by  proper  nourishment,  which 
we  could  not  have  been  so  agreeably,  and  effectually 
brought  to,  by  pure  reason;  it  is  obvious,  that  the  view 
we  ought  to  have  in  eating,  is  the  support  of  life.  That 
kind  of  food,  which  is  fittest  for  nourishing  the  bodv, 
and  the  least  likely  to  breed  diseases,  is  evidently  the  best. 
And  if  artificial  dishes,  unnatural  mixtures,  and  high 
sauces,  be  the  least  proper  for  being  assimilated  into  chyle 
and  blood,  and  the  most  likely  to  produce  humours  un- 
friendly to  the  constitution  ;  what  is  commonly  called  rich 
feeding  is,  in  truth,  slow  poison.  Itistherefore  very  strange, 
that  men  should  have  so  little  command  of  themselves, 
that  for  the  sake  of  the  trifling  pleasure  of  having  their 
palates  tickled  with  a  savoury  taste,  they  should  venture 
the  shortening  of  their  days.  At  the  same  time,  that  the 
enormous  expense  of  a  rich  table  might  be  spared,  and 
the  same  or  indeed  a  much  higher  pleasure,  in  eating, 
might  be  enjoyed,  if  people  would  but  give  themselves 
time  and  exercise  to  acquire  a  hearty  appetite.  But  I 
really  believe,  that  is  what  some  have  never  experienced, 
and  consequently  have  no  conception  of. 

The  vices  we  are  in  danger  of  running  into,  by  which 
our  table  may  become  a  snare  to  us,  bestowing  too  great 
expense,  or  too  much  time  at  our  meals,  over-gorging  na- 
ture, or  hurting  our  health  by  a  wrong  choice  of  food. 
Nothing  seems  more  evident,  than  that  to  waste  or  squan- 
der away  the  good  gifts  of  Providence,  especially  in  so 
sordid  a  manner,  as  upon  the  materials  of  gluttony,  is 
altogether  unjustifiable.  The  only  rational  notion  we  can 
form  of  the  design  of  Providence  in  bestowing  riches  upon 


OF  VIRTUE.  313 

some,  and  sinking  others  in  poverty,  is,  That  men  are 
placed  in  those  different  circumstances  with  a  view  to  the 
trial  and  exercise  of  different  virtues.  So  that  riches  arc 
to  be  considered  as  a  stewardship,  not  to  be  lavished  away 
in  pampering  our  vices,  and  supporting  our  vanity,  but  to 
be  laid  out  in  such  a  manner  as  we  shall  hereafter  be  able 
to  answer  for,  to  Him,  who  entrusted  us  with  them.  And 
whoever  bestows  yearly  in  gorging  and  gluttony,  what 
might  support  a  great  many  families  in  industry  andfrugal- 
ity,  let  him  see  to  the  consequences. 

Again,  if  we  be  really  spirits,  though  at  present  em- 
bodied ;  it  seems  pretty  plain,  that  the  feeding  of  the  body 
ought  not  to  engross  any  great  proportion  of  our  time. 
If  indeed  we  look  upon  ourselves  as  more  body  than  spirit, 
we  odght  then  to  bestow  the  principal  attention  upon  the 
body.  But  this  is  what  few  will  care  to  own  in  words ; 
which  makes  their  declaring  it  by  their  practice  the  more 
absurd,  and  inconsistent. 

If  it  be  our  duty  to  preserve  our  health  and  life  for  use- 
fulness in  our  station,  it  can  never  be  innocent  in  us  to 
pervert  the  very  means  appointed  for  the  support  of  the 
body,  to  the  destruction  of  the  body.  We  are  here  upon 
duty,  and  are  to  keep  upon  our  post,  till  called  off.  And 
he  who  trifles  with  life,  and  loses  it  upon  any  frivolous 
occasion,  must  answer  for  it  hereafter  to  the  Author  of 
Life. 

Lastly,  if  it  be  certain,  that  in  the  future  world  of  spirits, 
to  which  we  are  all  hastening,  there  will  be  no  occasion 
for  this  appetite,  nor  any  gratifying  of  appetites  at  all, 
nothing  is  more  evident,  than  the  absurdity  of  indulging  it 
in  such  an  unbounded  and  licentious  manner,  as  to  give  it 
an  absolute  ascendant  over  us,  and  to  work  it  into  the  very 
mind,  so  as  it  shall  remain,  when  the  body,  for  whose 
sake  it  was  given,  has  no  farther  occasion  for  it.  The 
design  our  Maker  had  in  placing  us  in  this  state  of  disci- 
pline, was  to  give  us  an  opportunity  of  cultivating  in  our- 
selves other  sorts  of  habits  than  those  of  gluttony  and  sen- 
suality. 

Of  the  many  fatal  contrivances,  which  our  species,  too 
fertile  in  invention,  have  hit  upon  for  corrupting  them- 
selves, defacing  the  blessed  Maker's  image  upon  the  mind, 
and  perverting  the  end  of  their  creation:  none  would  ap- 

2   R 


314  OF  VIRTUE. 

pear  more  unaccountable,  if  we  were  not  too  well  accus- 
tomed to  sec  instances  of  it,  than  the  savage  vice  of  drunk- 
enncss.  That  ever  it  should  become  a  practice  for  rational 
be ings  to  delight  in  overturning  their  reason  ;  that  ever 
men  should  voluntarily  choose,  by  swallowing  a  magical 
draught,  to  brutify  themselves  ;  nay,  to  sink  themselves 
below  the  level  of  the  brutes  ;  for  drunkenness  is  peculiar 
to  our  species ;  this  madness  must  appear  to  other  orders 
of  being,  wonderfully  shocking.  No  man  can  bear  the 
least  reflection  upon  his  understanding,  whatever  he  will 
upon  his  virtue.  Yet  men  will  indulge  a  practice,  by 
which  experience  convinces  them,  they  will  effectually 
lose  their  understanding,  and  become  perfect  idiots.  Un- 
thinking people  are  wont  to  look  with  great  contempt  upon 
natural  fools.  But  in  what  light  ought  they  to  view  a 
fool  of  his  own  making  ?  What  can  be  conceived  more 
unsuitable  to  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature,  than  the 
drunkard,  with  his  eyes  staring,  his  tongue  stammering, 
his  lips  quivering,  his  hands  trembling,  his  legs  tottering, 
his  stomach  heaving.  Decency  will  not  suffer  me  to  pro- 
ceed in  so  filthy  a  description.  The  swine,  wallowing  in 
the  mire,  is  not  so  loathsome  an  object  as  the  drunkard  ; 
for  nature  in  her  meanest  dress  is  always  nature  :  but  the 
drunkard  is  a  monster  out  of  nature.  The  only  rational 
being  upon  earth  reduced  to  absolute  incapacity  of  reason, 
or  speech  !  A  being  formed  for  immortality  sunk  into  filth 
and  sensuality  !  A  creature  endowed  with  capacities  for 
being  a  companion  of  angels,  and  inhabiting  the  etherial 
regions,  in  a  condition  not  fit  to  come  into  a  clean  room, 
among  his  fellow  creatures !  The  lord  of  this  world  sunk 
below  the  vilest  of  the  brutes  ! 

One  would  think  all  this  was  bad  enough  ;  but  there  is 
much  worse  to  be  said  against  this  most  abominable  and 
fatal  vice.  For  there  is  no  other  that  so  effectually  and  so 
suddenly  unhinges  and  overturns  all  virtues,  and  destroys 
every  thing  valuable  in  the  mind,  as  drunkenness.  For  it 
takes  off  every  restraint,  and  opens  the  mind  to  every 
temptation.  So  that  there  is  no  such  expeditious  way  for 
a  person  to  corrupt  and  debauch  himself,  to  turn  himself 
from  a  man  into  a  demon,  as  by  intoxicating  himself, 
with  strong  liquor.  Nor  is  there,  perhaps,  any  other 
habit  so  bewitching,  and  which  becomes  so  soon  uncon- 


OF  VIRTUE.  31$ 

querable  as  drunkenness.  The  reason  is  plain.  There  is 
no  vice  which  so  effectually  destroys  reason.  And  when 
the  faculties  of  the  mind  are  overturned,  what  means  can 
the  unhappy  person  use,  or  what  course  can  another  take 
with  him,  to  set  him  right?  To  attempt  to  reform  a  con- 
firmed drunkard,  is  much  the  same  as  preaching  to  a 
madman,  or  idiot.  Reason,  the  helm  of  the  mind,  once 
destroyed,  there  is  nothing  remaining  wherewith  to  steer  it. 
It  must  then  be  left  to  run  adrift. 

It  is  deplorable  to  think  of  the  miserable  pretences  made 
use  of  to  apologize  for  this  beastly  vice.     One  excuses 
himself  by  his  being  necessarily  obliged  to  keep  company. 
But  it  is  notorious  that  nothing  more  effectually  disqualifies 
a  man  for  company,  than  to  have  his  tongue  tied,  and  his 
brains  stupified  with  liquor.     Besides,  no  man  is  obliged 
to  do  himself  a   mischief,   to   do  another  no  kindness. 
Another  pretends  he  is  drawn  by  his  business  or  way  of 
life,  to  taverns  and  places  of  entertainment.     But  a  man 
must  never  have  been  drunk,  nor  even  seen  another  drunk, 
to  imagine  that  strong  liquor  will  help  him  in  driving  bar- 
gains.    On  the  contrary,  every  body  knows,  that  o*e  is 
never  so  likely  to  be  imposed  on  as  when  he  is  in  liquor. 
Nor  is  the  pretence  of  drinking  to  drive  away  care,,  to 
pass  the  time,  or  to  cheer  the  spirits,  more  worthy  of  a  ra- 
tional creature.     If,  by  the  force  of  strong  liquor,  a  man's 
cares  may  be  mechanically  banished,  and  his  conscience 
lulled  asleep  for  a  time,  he  can  only  expect  them  to  break 
loose  upon  him  afterwards  with  "the  greater  fury.     He 
who   artificially  raises  his  spirits  by  drinking,  will  find 
them  sink  and*  flag  in  proportion.     And  then  they  must 
be  raised  again  ;  and  so  on,  till  at  last  he  has  no  spirits  to 
raise.     For  understanding,  and  fortune,  and  virtue,  and 
health,  all  fall  before  this  dreadful  destroyer.       As  for 
drinking  to  pass  the  time,  instead  of  an  excuse,  it  is  an 
aggravation.     It  is  criminal  enough  to  waste  expense  and 
health,  without  lavishing  precious  time  besides. 

Nor  is  the  pretence  of  being  odious  among  one's  neigh- 
bours, and  being  looked  upon  as  a  precise  fellow,  for  liv- 
ing temperately,  any  better  than  the  others.  Alas !  we  arc 
not  hereafter  to  stand  or  fall  by  the  opinion  of  our  neigh- 
bours. Besides,  we  ourselves  in  many  cases  show  a  neg- 
lect of  the  ppinion  of  mankind;  and   do  not  cross  bur 


316  OF  VIRTUE. 

inclinations  to  gain  it.  And  if  in  one  instance,  why  not 
in  another  ?  We  may  be  sure  of  the  favourable  opinion 
of  the  sober  part  of  our  acquaintance  by  keeping  on  the 
right  side ;  the  approbation  of  one  of  whom  is  preferable 
to  that  of  a  thousand  drunkards. 

Of  all  kinds  of  intemperance,  the  modern  times  have 
produced  one  of  the  most  fatal  and  unheard  of,  which 
like  a  plague  over-runs  andlays  waste  both  town  and  coun- 
try, sweeping  the  lower  part  of  the  people,  who  indulge 
in  it,  by  thousands  to  the  grave.  The  unhappy  invention 
I  mean,  and  which  seems  by  its  mischievous  effects  to 
claim  Satan  himself  for  its  author,  is  the  drinking  of  fer- 
mented spirituous  liquors.  This  is  no  place  for  setting 
forth  the  destructive  effects  of  that  most  shocking  species 
of  debauchery.  That  has  been  the  subject  of  a  parlia- 
mentary inquiry.  And  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  the  accounts 
laid  before  that  august  body,  which  were  tragical  enough 
to  melt  a  heart  of  rock,  will  be  the  cause  of  producing 
an  effectual  remedy  for  that  ruinous  national  evil. 

The  best  human  means  I  know  of,  for  conquering  a 
habit  of  drinking,  are  to  avoid  temptation,  to  accustom 
one's  self  by  degrees  to  lessen  the  quantity,  and  lower  the 
strength  of  the  liquor  by  a  more  copious  dilution  with  water. 

The  natural  desire  of  the  two  sexes  was  placed  in  us 
for  the  support  of  the  species.  It  is  not  therefore  to  be  erad- 
icated ;  but  only  brought  under  proper  regulations,  so  as 
the  end  may  the  best  be  answered.  That  the  union  of  one 
man  and  woman  for  life,  was  the  original  design,  is  evi- 
dent from  the  near  equality  between  the  numbers  of  the 
two  sexes.  For  one  man  therefore  to  break  loose  upon 
the  other  sex,  and  appropriate  to  himself  a  plurality,  is 
evidently  against  the  order  of  nature,  and  inconsistent 
with  the  good  of  society,  in  which  every  individual  is  to 
enjoy  all  his  natural  rights  and  privileges,  and  all  monop- 
olies are  unjust.  That  the  marriage  engagement  ought  to 
be  sacred  and  indissoluble  but  by  death,  is  plain  from  con- 
sidering the  various  bad  effects  of  its  being  precarious  ;  as 
alienating  the  affections  of  the  two  parties  for  one  another, 
and  for  their  common  children,  and  thereby  defeating  one 
main  end  of  their  coming  together,  viz.  to  be  mutual 
helps  and  supports  to  one  another  under  the  various  dis- 
tresses of  life ;  encouraging  inconstancy  and  an  endless 


OF  VIRTUE.  317 

desire  of  variety ;  and  exposing  one  of  the  sexes  to  the 
u n happiness  of  a  slavish  dependence.  That  all  commerce 
of  the  sexes,  where  a  due  care  is  not  had  for  the  offspring, 
is  vicious,  is  evident  from  considering,  that  thereby  the 
very  design  of  nature  is  frustrated.  That  invading  the 
bed  of  our  neighbour  is  highly  injurious,  is  plain,  because 
it  is  a  breach  of  the  most  solemn  engagements,  and  most 
sacred  vows,  without  which  there  could  be  no  marriage. 
T  lat  all  commerce  of  the  sexes,  except  in  lawful  mar- 
riage, is  unjustifiable,  is  certain,  in  that  it  tends  to  the 
di^>  ouragement  of  that  most  wise  and  excellent  institution. 
And  that  is  the  indispensable  duty  of  every  man  and  wo- 
man to  enter  into  that  state,  excepting  in  the  case  of  unsur- 
mountable  constitutional  or  prudential  objections,  is  as 
pl.iin,  as  that  it  is  the  duty  of  every  man  and  woman  to 
eat  and  drink.  For  it  is  as  certainly  the  design  of  Provi- 
dence, that  the  species  be  kept  up,  as  that  the  life  of  indi- 
viduals be  preserved  by  nourishment.  And  what  is  the 
duty  of  one  is  the  duty  of  all,  unless  in  the  case  of  insuper- 
able obstacles. 

The  indulgence  of  this  appetite  to  excess  is  as  clearly  un- 
justifiable as  that  of  any  other.  The  effects  of  every  undue 
sensual  indulgence  are  sinking  and  debasingthe  mind,  mis- 
leading it  from  the  sublime  views,  and  noble  pursuits,  for 
which  it  was  created,  and  habituating  it  to  disobedience 
and  misrule  ;  which  is  directly  contrary  to  the  intention  of 
a  state  of  discipline.  Whoever  gives  himself  up  to  the 
uncontroled  dominion  of  passion  or  appetite,  sells  him- 
self an  unredeemable  slave  to  the  most  rigorous,  and  most 
despicable  of  tyrants.  And  it  is  only  going  on  farther  and 
farther  in  such  base  indulgences,  and  at  last,  no  gratifica- 
tion whatever  of  the  desire  will  be  sufficient.  Yet,  there 
is  no  state  in  life,  in  which  abstinence  at  times,  from  sen- 
sual gratifications  of  every  kind,  is  not  indispensably  neces- 
sary. Every  reader's  common  sense  will  convince  him  of 
the  truth  of  this,  and  particularly  with  respect  to  the  sub- 
ject we  are  now  upon.  Though  marriage  is  the  natural 
way  of  gratifying  the  mutual  desires  of  the  sexes,  every 
body  knows,  that  a  continued  indulgence  is  utterly  incom- 
patible with  the  marriage  state.  Which  shows  plainly, 
that  due  regulation  and  restraint  of  every  passion  and  ap- 
petite, is  the  scheme  of  nature,  and  that  unbounded  excess 


318  OF  VIRTUE. 

is  contrary  to  nature.  And  yet,  how  strange  is  it  to  consid- 
er the  poor  and  superficial  fallacies,  which  mankind  think, 
sufficient  to  satisfy  themselves  with,  rather  than  give  up 
their  favourite  vices  and  follies !  What  can  be  more  con- 
temptible than  the  common  plea  for  all  excessive  and  ir- 
regular indulgences,  particularly  the  criminal  commerce 
of  the  sexes  ;  That  we  are  formed  with  natural  inclinations, 
desires,  and  powers ;  and  why  should  we  not  act  accord- 
ing  to  the  bent  of  our  nature  ? 

To  pursue  the  ends  of  nature,  according  to  the  order  of 
nature,  is  so  far  from  being  criminal,  that  it  is  virtue.  But 
excess  and  irregularity  are  directly  contrary  to  nature's 
views.  This  is  seen  by  every  man,  in  every  case  where 
passion  and  appetite  do  not  blind  him.  We  have  a  natural 
appetite,  for  example,  to  food.  How  oomes  it  then,  that 
we  do  not  as  often  over-gorge  our  stomachs  with  plain 
bread  as  with  dainties  ?  The  one  would  be  as  irregular 
and  vicious  as  the  other.  Yet  we  should  see  a  strange 
absurdity  in  the  former,  while  we  can  excuse  ourselves 
in  the  latter.  If  we  are  formed  with  a  natural  appetite  for 
food,  why  do  we  make  such  a  difference  in  the  indulgence 
of  our  appetite  in  delicacies,  from  plain  food  ?  The  truth 
is,  that  excess  of  all  kinds  is  indefensible,  and  unnatural. 
If  it  were  natural,  we  should  be  as  apt  to  eat  too  much 
bread,  as  too  much  pastry.  It  is  the  deplorable  weakness 
of  our  nature,  that  we  yield  to  appetite  and  passion,  till 
they  become  too  powerful  for  us,  and  lead  us  captive  in 
spite  of  ourselves.  While  we  pretend  we  only  follow 
nature,  we  are  indulging  a  false  and  vitiated  taste.  And 
in  no  indulgence  is  there  more  shameful  excess  commit- 
ted, nor  greater  deviations  from  the  intention  of  nature, 
than  in  that  which  is  the  subject  of  this  paragraph.  Were 
the  above  apology  for  excess  of  any  weight,  that  is,  were 
it  proper  we  should  do  every  thing  we  have  power  or 
inclination  to,  we  might  by  the  same  plea  throw  ourselves 
down  a  precipice,  because  we  have  power  to  do  it.  The 
thief  may  steal,  because  he  has  a  natural  desire  to  ease 
rather  than  labour ;  the  drunkard  may  drink  himself  to 
death,  because  it  is  natural  to  quench  thirst ;  the  passion- 
ate man  may  kill  his  enemy,  because  he  has  a  natural  dis- 
position to  repel  injuries ;  in  short,  if  this  plea  be  good 


OF  VIRTUE.  319 

for  anv  thing  it  renders  all  excesses,  which  take  their  first 
rise  from  a  natural  appetite,  innocent. 

Such  an  indulgence  in  sleep,  in  leisure  or  in  action,  and 
in  relaxations  or  amusements,  as  may  be  necessary  for 
the  refreshment  and  health  of  these  frail  vehicles  we  now 
inhabit  is  allowable.  And  the  just  measure  of  such 
indulgences  is  different  according  to  different  constitu- 
tions and  ways  of  life.  But  it  is  to  be  feared,  that  hun- 
dreds exceed  the  bounds  of  moderation,  for  one,  who 
restricts  himself  too  much.  Let  every  reader  lay  his  hand 
upon  his  heart,  and  think  what  lost  time  he  will  have  to 
answer  for  hereafter.  The  safe  side  is,  to  indulge  rather 
too  little  than  too  much.  A  tolerable  constitution  will 
hold  better  with  eight  hours  sleep,  in  the  twenty-four,  than 
with  more.  And  as  to  relaxations  or  diversions,  the  plea 
of  their  necessity  is  wholly  groundless,  except  for  those 
who  live  a  laborious,  or  studious  life.  What  necessity 
for  those,  whose  whole  existence  is  one  continued  course 
of  indulgence  and  relaxation,  for  relaxation  ?  Relaxation 
from  what  ?  Not  from  business ;  for  they  never  do  any. 
The  proper  relaxation  from  idleness,  would  be  to  do  some- 
what. And  there  is  no  mortal,  who  is  one  degree  above 
an  idiot,  that  is  not  capable  of  doing  something  worth  liv- 
ing for. 

Whoever  can  persuade  himself,  that  it  was  the  inten- 
tion of  his  Maker,  in  placing  him  in  this  state  of  discipline, 
that  he  should  pass  an  existence  as  useless  as  that  of  a 
stock  or  a  stone,  (supposing  him  innocent  of  all  positive 
crimes)  must  have  strange  notions  of  the  Divine  econ- 
omy, and  of  his  own  nature.  If  that  sort  of  life  be  lawful 
and  proper  for  one,  it  is  so  for  all.  And  where  would 
then  be  the  business  of  life,  the  improvement  of  ourselves, 
the  care  of  our  children,  the  government  of  kingdoms, 
the  advancement  of  the  species  towards  a  preparation  for  a 
future  state  of  happiness  ?  Let  no  one  pretend,  that  he 
cannot  find  employment,  till  he  has  at  least  performed  all 
that  is  perscribed  in  this  book. 

I  will  here  throw  together  a  few  remarks  on  some  of 
the  modem  fashionable  amusements. 

Gaming  is  an  amusement  wholly  unworthy  of  rational 
beings,  having  neither  the  pretence  of  exercising  the  body, 
or  exerting  ingenuity,  or  of  giving  any  natural  pleasure ; 


320  OF  VIRTUE. 

and  owing  its  entertainment  wholly  to  an  unnatural  and 
vitiated  taste  ;  the  cause  of  infinite  loss  of  time,  of  enor- 
mous destruction  of  money,  of  irritating  the  passions,  of 
stirring  up  avarice,  of  innumerable  sneaking  tricks  and 
frauds,  of  encouraging  idleness,  of  disgusting  people 
against  their  proper  employments,  and  of  sinking  and 
debasing  all  that  is  truly  great  and  valuable  in  the  mind.* 
As  for  the  theatrical  diversions,  they  are  managed  in 
such  a  manner,  that  a  sober  person  may  be  ashamed  to 
be  seen  at  many  of  them.  It  is  notorious  that  the  bulk  of 
our  English  plays  are  not  fit  to  be  seen  in  print.  The 
tragedies  are,  generally  speaking,  a  heap  of  wild  flights 
and  bombastic  rants,  and  the  comedies  of  scandalous  im- 
purities ;  neither  of  which  can  be  thought  worthy  the  at- 
tention of  a  people,  who  value  themselves  either  upon 
their  taste  or  their  virtue.  There  may  be  found,  perhaps, 
in  the  English  language,  about  twenty  or  thirty  pieces, 
especially  some  of   Shakspeare''s,  which,  if  subjected  to 

*  Cards  bei  ng  now  become  so  universal,  as  to  be  the  nuisance  of  almost  alJ 
companies,  it  may  seem  necessary  in  opposing'  the  general  practice  of  the  polite, 
to  support  what  is  above  said  against  card-playing  by  some  authorities,  which 
will,  I  believe,  appear  at  least,  equal  to  those  of  any  of  the  most  eminent  modern 
defenders  of  that  stupid  and  mischievous  amusement. 

"  Play,  wherein  persons  of  condition,  especially  ladies"  (in  our  times  all  ages 
sexes,  and  ranks)  "  waste  so  much  of  their  time,  is  a  plain  instance  that  people 
cannot  be  idle;  they  must  be  doing  something,"  (if  it  be  mischief)  "For  how 
else  could  they  sit  so  many  hours  toiling  at  that  which  gives  generally  more 
•aeration  than  delight  to  people,  while  they  are  engaged  in  it?  It  is  certain, 
gaming  leaves  no  satisfaction  behind  it  to  those  who  reflect  when  it  is  over, 
and  it  no  way  profits  either  body  or  mind.  As  to  estates,  if  it  strike  so  deep  as 
to  concern  them,  it  is  then  a  trade,  and  not  a  recreation,  wherein  few  thrive  ; 
and  at  best,  a  thriving  gamester  has  but  a  poor  trade  on't,  who  fills  his  pockets 
ct  the  price  of  his  reputation."  Locke  on  EJucat.  p.  366. 

And  afterwards,  page  368. 

"  As  to  cards  and  dice,  I  think  the  safest  and  best  way  is,  never  to  learn  any 
play  upon  them,  and  so  to  be  incapacitated  for  those  dangerous  temptations  and 
encroaching  wasters  of  useful  time.'" 

What  would  this  great  man  have  said,  had  he  lived  in  our  times,  when  it  is 
common  for  people  to  spend  five  or  six  hours  every  night  at  cards,  Sunday  not 
excepted  ;  which  amounts  to  the  fourth  or  fifth  part  of  the  whole  time  of  life, 
and  Comes  in  all  to  perhaps  ten  or  a  dozen  years  in  a  long  life  ? 

Let  us  now  hear  Mr.  Addison  on  the  same  subject.  Spect.No.  93. 

"  I  must  confess  I  think  it  is  below  reasonable  creatures  to  be  altogether  con- 
versant in  such  diversions  as  are  merely  innace nt,  and  have  nothing  else  to  re- 
commend them,  but  that  there  is  no  hurt  in  them.  Whether  any  kind  of  gam- 
ing has  even  thus  much  to  say  for  itself,  I  shall  not  determine  ;  but  I  think  it'is 
very  wonderful  to  see  persons  of  the  be»t  tense,  passing  away  hours  together  in 
shitjjlirg  and  dividing  a  pack  of  cards,  with  no  other  conversation,  but  what  is 
made  up  of  a  few  game  phrases,  and  no  other  ideas,  but  those  of  black  or  red 
jpofs,  ranged  together  in  different  figures.  Would  not  a  man  laugh  to  hear  an}' 
one  of  tins  species  complaining  that  life  is  short  ?" 


OF  VIRTUE.  321 

pretty  severe  castigation,  and  properly  represented,  might 
be  said  to  make  a  noble  entertainment.  But  these  serve 
only  as  traps  to  draw  in  the  innocent  and  unwary  to  a  de* 
light  in  the  diversions  of  the  theatre.  And  by  the  sagacity 
of  the  managers  of  the  theatres,  who  very  well  know,  that, 
the  gross  of  an  audience  have  no  taste  for  what  is  really 
excellent  in  those  entertainments,  and  are  only  to  be  pleas- 
ed with  show,  or  ribaldry;  by  their  cunning  management, 
I  say,  it  comes  about,  that  it  is  not  much  safer  for  a  young 
and  innocent  person  to  be  present  at  the  representation  of 
a  chaste  and  virtuous  piece,  than  of  one  of  the  most  pro- 
fane. What  does  it  avail,  that  the  piece  itself  be  unex- 
ceptionable, if  it  is  to  be  interlarded  with  lewd  songs  or 
dances,  and  tagged  at  the  conclusion  with  a  ludicrous  and 
beastly  farce  ?  I  cannot  therefore,  in  conscience,  give  youth 
any  other  advice,  than  generally  to  avoid  such  diversions, 
as  cannot  be  indulged  without  the  utmost  danger  of  per- 
verting their  taste,  and  corrupting  their  morals. 

As  for  masquerades,  if  the  intention  of  them  be  in- 
triguing, they  answer  some  end,  though  a  bad  one  ;  if  not, 
they  seem  bv  all  accounts  to  be  such  a  piece  of  wretched 
foolery,  as  ought  to  be  beneath  any  but  children  or  mad 
people.  That  a  thousand  people  should  come  together 
in  ridiculous  dresses  only  to  squeak  to  one  another,  / 
know  you,  and,  Do  you  know  me  I  Posterity,  if  the  world 
should  grow  a  little  wiser,  will  not  believe  it ;  but  will 
conclude,  that  their  grandfathers  and  grandmothers  were 
very  naught.  A  multitude  assembled  together  in  masks, 
by  which  means  shame,  the  great  restraint  from  vice,  is 
banished  !  What  can  be  imagined  more  threatening  to  the 
interests  of  virtue  and  decency  ?* 

I  know  of  no  very  material  objection  against  the  enter- 
tainments  of  music  called  concerts,  if  they  be  not  pursued 
to  the  loss  of  too  much  time  or  money.  Those  called 
oratorios,  being  a  kind  of  dramas  taken  from  Scripture, 

•  Among  various  other  the  immortal  honours  of  our  present  most  excellent 
Sovereign,  George  III.  may  this  page  hand  clown  to  posterity,  that  he  has  set  his 
royal  authority  and  example  in  full  opposition  to  the  vices  here  remarked  on, 
viz.  Masquerading,  Gaming,  and  criminal  Gallantry.  And  to  the  indelible 
disgrace  of  the  present  age,  be  it  remembered,  that,  in  consequence  of  the  dis^ 
content  of  a  set  of  disappointed  grandees,  the  merit  of  so  amiable  a  prince  has 
not  been  esteemed  as,  from  the  known  generosity  of  the  people  of  Britain* 
might  have  been  expected. 

£  S 


222  OF  VIRTUE. 

are,  I  think,  exceptionable,  as  they  tend  to  degrade  thos* 
awful  subjects,  and  to  turn  into  diversion  what  is  more 
proper  for  devotion. 

Promiscuous  dancing  at  public  balls,  is  a  diversion  no 
way  proper  for  young  people,  as  it  gives  an  opportunity 
for  the  artful  and  designing  of  either  sex  to  lay  snares  for 
one  another,  which  sometimes  prove  fatal.  At  the  same- 
time,  country-dancing  in  private,  where  the  whole  com- 
pany  are  known  to  one  another,  where  the  parents  or  other 
judicious  persons  preside,  where  decency  is  kept  up,  and 
moderation  used,,  must,  I  think,  be  owned  to  be  both  an 
agreeable  amusement,  and  a  wholesome  exercise. 

Hunting,  the  favourite  diversion  of  the  country-gentry, 
is,  without  doubt,  the  very  best  that  can  be  used,  for  the 
preservation  of  health,  exclusive  of  the  danger  of  broken 
bones.  But,  as  a  gentleman  ought  in  all  reason  to  be  pos- 
sessed of  other  endowments  and  accomplishments,  besides 
that  of  a  healthy  constitution,  one  would  think,  a  few- 
other  employments  should  have  place  ;  such  as  reading, 
overlooking  their  business,  improving  their  estates;  serving 
their  friends,  and  country,  and  preparing  themselves  for 
another  world  ;  for  surely  that  cannot  be  said  to  be  the  ex- 
istence of  a  thinking,  social,  immortal  creature,  which  is 
divided  between  hunting,  drinking,  and  sleeping. 

The  distress  many  people  seem  to  be  in  for  somewhat 
to  pass  the  time,  might  have  been  prevented  by  their  study- 
ing in  the  earlier  part  of  life  to  acquire  a  little  taste  for 
reading  and  contemplation.  Whoever  can  find  an  agree- 
able companion  in  a  book,  a  tree,  or  a  flower,  can  never  be 
at  a  loss  how  to  pass  his  leisure  hours,  though  he  should 
not  be  in  the  way  of  the  card- table,  the  tavern,  or  the  play. 
And  it  is  well  worth  while  to  acquire  a  little  taste  for  men- 
tal  amusements  in  one's  early  years  (the  only  time  of  life 
in  which  it  is  to  be  acquired)  for  when  all  is  said,  it  is  but 
a  miserable  case  for  a  man  to  have  in  himself  no  entertain- 
ment for  himself;  but  to  be  obliged  to  be  beholden  to 
others  for  all  his  pleasure  in  life. 

Our  situation  in  the  present  state  is  such,  that  every 
thing  makes  a  part  of  our  discipline;  and  we  are  in  danger, 
without  proper  care,  and  attention,  of  deviating  into  error 
in  so  seemingly  trivial  a  particular  as  that  of  dress.  Too 
much  time,  or  too  great  cxpence  bestowed  on  dress,  that 


OF  VIRTUE.  325 

*is  more  than  might  do  the  business  decently,  becomes 
criminal.  For  that  is  wasting  upon  an  aflair  of  very  little 
consequence,  what  is  of  great  value,  and  might  be  much 
better  applied.  Levity,  or  wantonness  appearing  in  dress, 
is  also  unjustifiable,  as  tending  to  produce  bad  effects  on 
ourselves  and  others. 

To  conclude,  the  proper  conduct  of  the  passions  and  ap- 
petites consists  briefly,  in  following  nature  in  the  indul- 
gence of  them  ;  in  taking  care,  above  all  things,  not  to 
suffer  them  to  get  such  a  hold  of  the  mind,  as  to  enslave  it, 
that  is,  to  engage  so  much  of  its  attention  as  may  disqual- 
ify it  for  worthier  pursuits,  make  it  unhappy,  by  continu- 
ally hankering  after  the  gratification  of  one  low  desire  or 
other,  and  lead  it  to  place  its  whole  satisfaction  in  such 
gratifications.  The  due  conduct  of  the  passions  and  ap- 
petites supposes  reason  to  bear  rule  in  the  mind,  and  the 
inferior  powers  to  be  in  subjection.  Whoever  keeps  his 
mind  constantly  in  such  a  condition,  is  at  all  times  in  a 
capacity  for  acting  a  part  suitable  to  the  Dignity  of  Hu- 
man Nature,  and  performing  his  duty  to  his  fellow-crea- 
tyres,  and  to  his  Creator. 

SECTION  VII. 

Of  our  Obligations  with  Respect  to  our  Fellow-creatures. 

THE  foundation  upon  which  the  whole  of  our  duty  to 
our  fellow-creatures  must  rest,  is  benevolence.  And  the 
measure  of  our  love  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  is,  its  being- 
equal  to  that  which  we  have  for  ourselves.  The  reason 
whv  it  is  made  our  duty  to  love  our  neighbours  as  our- 
selves, is,  That  being  proper,  there  should  be  such  an  or- 
der of  being,  as  man,  created,  it  was  impossible  for  Di- 
vine Wisdom  to  propose  the  production  of  such  a  species, 
without  intending  them  to  be  united  together  as  a  society ; 
and  that  mutual  love  and  agreement  are  essentially  neces- 
sary to  the  very  idea  of  a  society.  As  it  is  impossible  to 
conceive  a  material  system,  in  which  repulsion  should  uni- 
versally prevail,  and  attraction  have  no  place,  but  every 
particle  of  matter  should  repel  every  other,  so  it  is  con- 
ceivable that  a  society  should  subsist  in  which  every  indi- 
vidual should  hate  every  other, 


324  OF  VIRTUE. 

Our  self-love  is  very  wisely  made  the  measure  of  oiu 
love  to  our  fellow-creatures,  because  every  individual  ought 
to  consider  himself  as  only  one  among  many,  and  no  way 
of  greater  consequence  than  his   neighbour,  before  the 
universal  Governor,  than  as  he  may  be  more  virtuous  than 
he.     And  as  human  penetration  does  not  reach  so  far  as  to 
judge  of  internal  characters,  we  cannot  upon  any  rational 
pretence  pronounce  ourselves  preferable  to  others^  nor  con- 
sequently ought  to  love  our  fellow-creatures  at  all  less  than 
ourselves.  It  is  true,  that  the  order  of  human  affairs  is  such, 
as  to  direct  every  man  to  apply  himself  to  the  conducting 
of  his  own  concerns,  and  consulting  his  own  interest ;  be- 
cause every  man  knows  best,  and  is  therefore  the  fittest, 
to  undertake  the  management  of  his  own  concerns,  tem- 
poral and  spiritual.     By  which  means  every  man's  con- 
cerns are  likely  to  be  managed  to  the  best  purpose.     But 
it  does  not  follow  from  thence,  that  any  man  ought  in  his 
own  mind  to  prefer  himself  to  another,  or  to  love  himself 
more  than  his  neighbour. 

Whoever  loves  his  neighbour  as  himself,  will  show  his 
affection  by  consulting  his  interest  in  all  things  which  may 
concern  either  his  body,  his  soul,  his  fortune,  or  reputa- 
tion :  For  every  man,  who  rationally  loves  himself,  will 
study  his  own  interest  with  respect  to  these  four  great  con- 
cerns. 

^  To  consult  our  neighbour's  interest,  is,  to  do  him  no 
injury  :  to  prevent,  as  much  as  in  us  lies,  any  other  per- 
son from  injuring  him;  to  do  him  justice  in  every  respect, 
and,  beyond  justice,  to  show  him  all  the  kindness  in  our 
power. 

To  be  negatively  good,  if  we  proceed  no  farther,  is  de- 
serving no  more  praise  than  a  stock  or  a  stone.  And  those 
selfish  and  narrow-hearted  people,  whose  whole  praise  is, 
that  they  do  no  harm,  are  not  to  be  reckoned  upon  as  mem- 
bers of  society,  but  are  mere  cyphers  in  the  creation. 
Such  sordid  dispositions  as  will  admit  no  thought  of  any 
thing  but  self,  can  never  be  fit  for  any  place  in  that  more 
extensive  future  society,  which  will  be  composed  wholly  of 
beings  ennobled  and  perfected  by  virtue  and  universal  ben- 
evolence: For  in  that  higher  state,  every  individual  will 
be  connected  with  the  whole,  and  the  whole  with  every 
dividual;  so  that  there  wijl  be  no  detached  or  separate 


OF  VIRTUE.  32S 

beings.  This  shows  the  necessity  of  our  being  habitua- 
ted to  consider  ourselves  as  parts  of  the  whole,  and  of  en- 
larging our  minds  by  an  extensive  benevolence.  This  also 
shows  the  strange  absurdity  of  making  retirement  from  so- 
ciety, in  the  active  time  of  life,  a  part  of  religion ;  as  by 
that* unnatural  and  monstrous  practice  one  third  part  of  our 
duty  is  wholly  cut  off,  and  the  human  mind,  which  ought 
by  all  possible  methods  to  be  drawn  and  engaged  to  soci- 
ety, is  detached  and  separated  from  it,  and  habituated  to 
think  with  horror  of  the  very  state  for  which  it  was  formtd. 
Affection  to  our  neighbour  will  prevent  our  injuring 
him,  and  incline  us  to  do  him  the  utmost  justice,  first,  as 
to  his  fortune  or  possessions.  I  begin  with  this,  as  that  part 
of  our  neighbour's  concerns,  which  is  of  the  least  conse- 
quence ;  intending  to  proceed  afterwards  to  those  which 
touch  more  nearly.  Now  the  foundation  of  property  is  in 
reason  or  rectitude ;  that  is  to  say,  That  a  person  may  in 
such  a  manner  come  to  be  possessed  of  a  portion  of  the 
good  things  of  life,  that  he  may  have  an  exclusive  right 
to  it  against  all  mankind  ;  so  that  for  any  other  to  deprive 
him  of  such  possession  against  his  consent,  would  be  ini- 
quitous. As  the  infinite  Author  of  all  things  has  an  un- 
questionable title  to  all  creatures  and  things  in  the  universe, 
it  is  evident,  that  he  may,  in  the  course  of  his  providence 
give  to  any  man  the  possession  of  any  of  the  good  things 
of  life;  and  what  he  gives  cannot  without  injustice  be,  by 
any  private  person,  forcibly  or  clandestinely  taken  away. 
At  the  same  time,  the  general  consent  of  society,  or  the 
law  of  the  country  in  which  a  person  lives,  may  for  wise 
and  generally  beneficial  purposes,  render  property  other- 
wise rightful,  not  tenable,  and  may  make  all  things  com- 
mon, except  where  the  Divine  law  Has  absolutely  prohib- 
ited alienation,  as  in  matrimony.  In  a  country  where  ex- 
clusive property  is  established  and  supported  by  law  or  mu- 
tual agreement,  a  right  to  valuable  possesions  may  come 
first  by  birth.  It  is  plainly  agreeable  to  reason,  that  a  pa- 
rent provide  for  his  own  offspring,  preferably  to  strangers. 
The  natural  affection  of  even  the  inferior  creatures  for  their 
young,  leads  to  this.  By  the  same  rule,  all  successions 
among  persons  related  by  marriage  or  blood,  are  equitably 
and  legally  established;  and  it  becomes  injustice  to  deprive 
any  one  of  property  so  acquired.     The  fruits  of  a  person's 


326  OF  VIRTUE: 

ingenuity,  or  labour,  arc  also  lawful  property.  Purchase 
is  the  giving  what  one  had  a  right  to,  for  something 
which  belonged  to  another,  and  therefore  purchase  gives 
a  just  right.  Free  gift,  from  one  who  has  power  to  give, 
makes  a  just  title.  In  things  which  have  been  claimed 
bv  no  one,  the  first  possession  gives  a  title,  as  in  the  case 
of  uninhabited  countries.  To  seize  a  country  by  force  of 
arms,  to  the  prejudice  of  the  original  inhabitants,  is  a  fla- 
grant injustice.  For  as  the  first  entrance  into  an  uninhab- 
ited country ,  being  by  the  direction  of  Providence,  gives 
the  first  discoverers  a  title  to  it,  it  is  evident,  that  no 
person  can,  without  violating  the  laws  of  justice,  disturb 
the  first  possessors  in  their  property,  or  pretend  to  a 
settlement  in  that  country,  but  by  agreement  with  the  first 
possessors. 

I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  my  purpose  to  determine, 
with  the  utmost  exactness,  the  boundaries  of  property,  or 
how  far  one  person  may  lawfully  encroach  upon  another's 
right.  Whoever  sincerely  loves  his  neighbour  with  the 
same  measure  of  affection  as  himself,  will  be  as  tender  of 
his  property  as  he  would  wish  others  to  be  of  his  own  ;  and 
whoever  resoives  to  regulate  his  conduct  according  to  rec- 
titude, will  be  more  delicately  fearful  of  breaking  in  upon 
another's  right,  than  of  loosing  part  of  his  own  ;  and  with 
the  utmost  reason  :  For  in  violating  his  neighbour's  right, 
he  becomes  guilty  before  God;  whereas  in  loosing  his 
own,  the  worst  consequence  is,  his  being  deprived  of  what 
is  of  no  great  value  in  itself,  and  which  he  must  soon  leave 
behind  him. 

Whatever  practices  tend  to  the  violation  of  any  person's 
just  property,  they  are  ali  contrary  to  the  affection  we 
ought  to  entertain  for  our  neighbour,  and  to  strict  recti- 
tude. Whether  such  practices  are  openly  violent,  or 
more  indirect  and  concealed,  the  consequences  being  the 
same,  the  vice  is  the  same;  unless  where  increased  or 
diminished  by  circumstances  of  greater  or  less  aggrava- 
tion. Thus,  receiving  or  concealing  the  property  of  ano- 
ther, whether  stolen,  robbed,  or  found,  if  the  proprietor 
is  known,  or  assisting  or  countenancing  another  in  such 
practices  is  the  same  injury  to  our  neighbour  as  direct  theft. 

The  most  extensive  and  ruinous  violation  of  property, 
is  that  wllioh  is  committed  t>y  those  scourges  and  curses 


OF  VIRTUE.  327 

of  this  lower  world,  Tyrants.  When  one  of  those  furies, 
the  disgrace  and  horror  of  the  human  species,  breaks  loose 
upon  mankind;  a  whole  kingdom  is  robbed,  a  quarter  of  the 
world  is  plundered.  And  in  that  day,  when  all  differences 
of  rank  will  be  at  an  end,  dreadful  in  that  da)-  will  be 
the  charge  against  those  who,  being  by  Divine  Providence 
raised  for  the  general  happiness  of  mankind,  have  used 
their  power  only  to  spread  extensive  misery  and  distress 
among  God's  creatures. 

Whoever  is  by  the  Divine  Providence  raised  to  a  station 
of  power  and  influence,  and  takes  the  advantage  of  his 
power  to  oppress  his  inferiors,  shows  himself  not  only 
unjust,  but  cowardly  ;  For  true  greatness  of  mind  scorns 
any  unfair  advantage.  And  if  it  be  unjust  to  appropriate 
to  one's  self  what  belongs  to  another,  however  able  he  may 
be  to  bear  the  loss,  much  more  cruel  and  base  is  it  for  the 
rich  to  avail  themselves  of  their  power  to  the  distressing 
of  their  poor  tenants  or  dependants.  What  will  add  but 
a  small  matter  to  the  already  over  grown  wealth  and  super- 
fluous state  of  the  powerful  landlord,  wrung  from  the 
poor  industrious  farmer,  reduces  him,  and  his  numerous 
family,  to  the  extremity  of  distress.  And  that  heart  must 
have  little  feeling,  that  would  not  spare  a  superfluous  dish, 
or  a  needless  bottle,  rather  than  a  family  of  half  a  dozen 
fellow- creatures  should  want  bread. 

I  know  of  no  oppression  in  this  happy  country,  of  such 
great  and  extensive  bad  consequences,  as  that  occasioned 
by  the  abuse  of  law  :  the  grievance  of  which  is  so  much 
more  calamitous,  as  the  very  intention  of  the  law  is  the 
redress  of  grievances.  It  is  notorious,  that  it  is  in  the 
power  of  any  rascally  pettifogger  to  keep  a  whole  town  in 
fear,  and  to  ruin  as  many  as  he  pleases  of  the  poor  and  indus- 
trious part  of  the  inhabitants,  who  are,  without  doubt,  col- 
lectively considered,  the  most  valuable  part  of  the  people  : 
And  the  judge  upon  the  bench  must  sit  and  see  such 
wicked  practices,  without  having  it  in  his  power  to  give 
any  relief  to  an  unhappy  subject,  who  is  stripped,  and  his 
family  beggared,  to  satisfy  a  voracious  blood-sucker  :  and 
all  under  pretence  of  equity.  One  single  regulation 
would  at  once  put  a  stop  to  this  whole  complaint,  viz.  A 
law,  by  which  in  all  cases  of  prosecution  about  private 
concerns,  if  one  of  the  parties  choose  to  submit  the  cause 


328  OF  VIRTUE. 

to  arbitration,  the  other  should  be  obliged  to  stand  the 
award.  The  most  judicious  and  prudent  set  of  men  in 
the  nation,  I  mean  the  merchants,  find  this  the  most  ami- 
cable, equitable,  and  frugal  manner  of  deciding  disputes 
about  property,  and  generally  use  it.  And  it  were  to  be 
wished  that  it  were  universal ;  which  is  to  be  hoped  the 
abominable  iniquity  of  the  law  will  at  last  bring  about. 

The  ancient  maxim,  that  the  rigour  of  the  law  is  the 
height  of  injustice,  is  undoubtedly  true.  And  whoever 
is  ready  to  take  all  advantages  of  his  neighbour,  which  the 
law,  strained  to  its  utmost  strictness  will  give  him,  shows 
himself  (so  far  from  loving  his  neighbour  as  himself)  to 
be  of  a  disposition  to  plunder  his  neighbour  for  his  own 
advantage  in  the  utmost  iniquitous  manner,  if  he  could 
but  at  the  same  time  keep  himself  safe;  and  that  it  is  not 
the  love  of  justice  and  of  his  neighbour,  but  fear  of  pun- 
ishment, that  restrains  him  from  the  most  notorious  viola- 
tion of  property  by  theft  or  robbery. 

If  by  borrowing  money,  or  buying  goods  upon  credit, 
knowing  one's  self  to  be  in  no  condition  to  pay,  while 
the  person  he  deals  with  believes  him  fit  to  be  trusted,  if 
by  such  means  as  these  one  may  as  much  injure  his  neigh- 
bour's estate,  as  by  open  violence  or  theft,  it  is  evident 
that  all  such  proceedings  are  highly  unjust.  Every  man 
has  a  right  to  know  the  truth  in  all  cases  which  concern 
himself:  And  whoever  conceals  from  his  neighbour  a 
truth,  which,  if  he  had  known,  he  would  have  acted  an- 
other part  than  he  did,  is  the  cause  of  all  the  loss  he  may 
hiiffer  by  such  transaction.  Yet  nothing  is  more  common 
than  for  traders  to  borrow  large  sums  a  very  few  days 
before  their  becoming  insolvent.  In  which,  besides  the 
injustice,  the  abuse  of  friendship  and  confidence  greatly 
aggravates  the  iniquity. 

It  is  lamentable  to  observe  how  little  regard  is  too  gene- 
rally paid  to  such  promises  as  people  think  themselves 
not  legally  liable  to  be  compelled  to  the  performance 
of.  Breaking  promises  is  violating  sacred  truth.  And 
withholding  from  a  person  what  one  has  absolutely  prom- 
ised him,  supposing  it  still  in  his  power  to  perform  his 
promise,  is  depriving  him  of  what  he  has  a  right  to  claim  : 
which  is  in  effect  a  violation  of  property.  Especially  in 
the  case  of  a  dependence  upon  a  promise  given,  by  which 


OF  VIRTUE.  329 

the  expectant  is  disappointed,  and  greatly  injured.  This 
is  direct  injustice,  falsehood,  and  cruelty.  Nor  does  the 
consideration  of  an  unexpected  expense,  which  the  ful- 
filling of  the  promise  may  occasion,  bring  any  excuse  for 
violating  it.  All  that  was  to  have  been  considered  before- 
hand, and  accounted  upon,  before  you  gave  your  promise. 
At  the  same  time  a  generous  man  will  quit  his  right  to 
what  has  been  promised  him,  when  he  finds,  that  theprom- 
iser  cannot,  without  considerable  detriment,  fulfil  his  en- 
gagement. 

To  withhold  a  just  debt,  though  the  creditor  should  not 
have  it  in  his  power  to  recover  it  by  law  ;  is  equally  unjust, 
as  in  the  case  of  its  being  recoverable.  The  intention  of 
the  law  of  bankruptcy  is  to  give  unfortunate  debtors  an 
opportunity  of  doing  justice  to  their  creditors.  Therefore 
he,  who  takes  the  advantage  of  his  being  cleared  by  the 
statute  of  bankruptcy,  and  refuses  to  make  complete  pay- 
ment of  his  whole  debts,  when  it  comes  afterwards  to  be 
in  his  power,  is  guilty  of  the  same  sort  of  injustice  as  the 
thief.  And  to  take  advantage  of  sanctuaries,  or  privileg- 
ed places ;  or  of  the  laws  in  favour  of  members  of  either 
houses  of  parliament,  to  screen  one's  self,  or  others ;  or 
by  any  other  means  to  evade,  or  assist  others  in  evading, 
the  payment,  of  just  debts,  where  it  is  in  the  debtor's  pow- 
er to  make  payment,  is  the  very  same  species  of  iniquity  as 
theft,  with  the  aggravation  of  the  abuse  of  law,  and  the 
baseness  of  taking  an  advantage  of  the  weaker. 

Nor  is  the  absolute  refusal  of  a  just  debt,  only  injustice ; 
but  even  the  delay  of  payment  beyond  a  reasonable  time, 
if  at  all  in  one's  power  to  make  payment,  is  injurious  and 
iniquitous.  And  all  the  prejudice  suffered  by  the  cred- 
itor, by  loss  of  interest  of  money,  or  by  inconveniences  in 
his  affairs,  through  want  of  what  he  has  a  just  title  to,  is 
justly  to  be  laid  to  the  charge  of  the  debtor. 

All  breach  of  trust,  whether  through  careless  neglect 
or  voluntary  embezzling  of  what  is  committed  to  one's 
care,  in  the  capacity  of  an  executor  of  the  will  of  the  dead,  of 
an  assignee,  steward,  factor,  deputy;  all  proceedings  of  this 
kind,  which  are  different  from  the  conduct  one  would 
pursue  in  the  management  of  his  own  concerns,  or  might 
in  reason  expect  another  to  do  for  him,  are  deviations  from 
rectitude,  and  the  great  rule  of  loving  our  neighbour  with 
the  same  measure  of  affection  as  ourselves, 

2  T 


330  OF  VIRTUE. 

In  commerce  and  traffic,  all  advantages  taken  by  dealers, 
against  one  another,  beyond  what  the  one,  it  he  were  in 
the  other's  place  would  think  just  and  reasonable,  are 
iniquitous.  Of  this  kind  are  all  deceits  in  goods,  as  put- 
ting them  off  for  somewhat  better  than  they  are,  whether 
that  be  done  by  concealing  their  real  faults,  or  by  giving 
them  counterfeit  advantages.  Over-rating  of  commod- 
ities ;  that  is,  selling  them  at  such  a  price,  as  will  yield 
an  exorbitant  profit  to  the  seller,  to  the  prejudice  of  the 
buyer,  which  shows  in  a  very  bad  light  all  monopolies, 
especially  of  such  articles  of  commerce  as  are  necessary 
in  trade,  or  in  life.  All  advantages  taken  by  traders  pos- 
sessed of  large  capitals,  to  the  hurt  of  persons  in  narrower 
circumstances.  All  advantages  taken  by  the  knowing, 
against  the  ignorant.  Advantages  taken  by  the  buyer 
against  the  seller,  whether  of  his  ignorance  or  necessity. 
And  those  most  flagrant  iniquities  of  false  weights,  meas- 
ures, or  coins ;  with  whatever  else  in  general,  may  be  the 
means  of  transferring  to  one  person  the  property  of  another 
in  any  manner,  which  he  who  is  the  gainer  would  think 
an  injustice  and  hardship,  if  he  were  in  the  case  of  the 
loser ;  all  such  arts  of  commerce  are  iniquitous  and  unjus- 
tifiable. 

Reader,  if  thou  art  wise,  thou  wilt  stop  here,  and  exam- 
ine thy  heart,  and  thy  life.  If  thou  hast  ever  desired,  or 
effected,  the  prejudice  of  thy  neighbour  in  his  property, 
whether  by  means  of  power  or  craft,  as  thou  lovest  thy 
soul,  do  not  delay  one  day  to  repent,  and  reform  thy  fault, 
and  to  make  ample  restitution  to  the  injured  person,  to 
his  heirs,  or  if  these  cannot  be  found,  to  the  poor.  If 
thou  goest  down  to  the  grave  loaded  with  the  spoils  of 
injustice,  they  will  sink  thy  soul  to-  the  bottomless  pit. 
For  the  Judge  of  the  world  is  of  infinite  purity  and  jus- 
tice; and  will  show  no  mercy  to  the  impenitent  offender 
against  unchangeable  and  eternal  rectitude. 

Men  being  drawn  to  make  encroachments  upon  the 
property  of  others,through  avarice;  it  is  evidently  the  duty 
of  every  man  to  look  into  his  own  heart ;  and  find  out 
whether  the  love  of  riches  takes  up  too  much  room  in  it. 
And  if  he  finds,  what  I  doubt  most  men  will  find,  that  he 
loves  riches  better  than  he  does  his  neighbour,  that  he 
has  a  greater  desire  to  gain  wealth  than  to  be  of  service  to 


OF  VIRTUE.  331 

his  fellow- creatures,  it  is  his  undoubted  duty  to  conquer 
the  sordid  passion,  and  strengthen  the  generous  one.  To 
this  purpose  it  will  be  his  wisdom  to  set  himself  in  earnest 
to  deep  consideration  on  the  evil  of  avarice,  and  the  excel- 
lence of  justice  ;  to  earnest  prayer  to  heaven  for  assistance 
in  the  conquest  of  this  vicious  disposition  ;  and  to  avoid 
extravagance  and  profusion,  which  are  often  the  cause  of 
the  most  rapacious  and  insatiable  avarice. 

Every  man  has  a  right  to  be  thought  and  spoken  of  ac- 
cording to  his  real  character.  Consequently,  whoever,  by 
any  means,  direct  or  indirect,  is  the  occasion  of  his  neigh- 
bour's being  worse  thought,  or  spoken  of  than  he  deserves, 
is  guilt\T  of  injuring  his  neighbour;  and  all  injurious  treat- 
ment of  a  fellow-creature  is  contrary  to  rectitude,  and  in- 
consistent with  the  love  we  ought  to  have  for  our  neigh- 
bour, which  ought  to  be  equal  to  that  with  which  one  loves 
himself. 

The  most  atrocious  injury  against  our  neighbour's  rep- 
utation is,  false  witness  before  a  judge.  The  laws  of  sev- 
eral nations  have  condemned  the  guilty  of  this  crime  to 
suffer  the  same  punishment,  to  which  the  law  exposed  the 
person  sworn  against.  But  I  know  no  punishment  too 
severe  for  a  crime  of  so  black  a  nature,  and  which  draws 
along  with  it  such  horrid  consequences.  To  take  the  eter- 
nal God  of  truth  to  witness  to  a  known  falsehood  ;  to  defeat 
the  very  intention  of  an  oath,  which  is  often  the  only  pos- 
sible means  for  the  discovery  of  truth ;  to  render  all  human 
testimony  suspicious;  to  stop  the  course  of  justice,  and  open 
a  door  to  all  manner  of  iniquity  and  violence ;  to  blast  the 
character  of  an  innocent  person  in  the  most  public  manner, 
and  in  the  manner  the  most  effectual  for  ruining  it,  as  being 
the  most  likely  to  gain  belief  to  his  prejudice  ;  to  violate 
his  property,  perhaps  to  reduce  himself  and  his  family  to 
beggary ;  or  to  be  the  cause  of  passing  upon  him  a  sentence 
of  death  for  what  he  never  was  capable  of  committing  ;  to 
take  a  false  oath  against  a  person  before  a  court  is  to  be 
guilty  of  such  black  and  complicated  crimes  as  these :  And 
for  this  our  law  inflicts  a  punishment,  which  a  little  money 
given  the  constable,  makes  almost  no  punishment ! 

To  spread  a  false  report  against  any  person,  is  contrary 
to  the  love  we  oughtto  have  for  our  neighbour,  and  to  jus- 
tice, whether  it  be  known  to  be  such,  or  invented  for  the 


332  OF  VIRTUE. 

purpose  by  the  publisher,  or  whether  it  be  a  mere  surmise 
or  suspicion.  To  invent  a  lie,  or  propagate  a  known 
falsehood,  to  the  prejudice  of  any  person's  character,  is 
taking  up  the  office  of  Satan  himself  who  is  styled  in 
Scripture  the  Accuser.  But,  that  even  insinuations,  and 
whispers,  or  nods  and  shrugs,  by  which  an  innocent  char- 
acter mav  be  blasted  or  ruined,  are  wicked  and  cruel, 
every  man's  conscience  will  tell  him,  if  he  will  put  it  to 
himself,  how  he  should  like  to  be  so  used,  or  reflect  upon 
the  uneasiness  it  gave  him,  if  ever  he  suffered  in  the  same- 
manner. 

If  by  sneering  and  ridicule,  upon  an  innocent  infirmity 
a  person  may  be  laughed  out  of  the  respect  and  esteem, 
which  every  worthy  character  deserves,  it  is  evident,  that 
such  wantonly  mischievous  mirth  is  highly  unjustifiable. 

The  cruelty  of  all  practices,  which  tend  to  lessen  the 
reputation  of  an  innocent  person,  appears  plainly  from  the 
value  of  reputation  ;  which  is  always  dear  to  great  and  wor- 
thy minds;  and  the  loss  of  which  is  in  some  cases  pecu- 
liarly fatal.  The  characters  of  a  clergyman,  a  governor 
of  youth,  a  trader,  or  a  virgin,  are  more  delicate  than 
those  of  other  persons.  And  whoever  is  capable  of  wan- 
tonly attacking  such  characters,  must  be  wholly  void  of 
sentiment  for  his  fellow- creatures. 

There  is  a  peculiarity  in  the  vice  we  are  now  treating  of, 
which  renders  this  more  atrocious,  than  that  of  invading 
our  neighbour's  property.  It  is,  that  often  the  injured 
person  is  robbed  of  what  is  to  him  of  inestimable  worth, 
and  the  cruel  spoiler  not  enriched  by  the  rapine.  For  the 
defamer  commonly  reaps  neither  profit,  honour,  nor  pleas- 
ure, unless  the  indulgence  of  malice  can  be  called  a  pleas- 
ure,— which,  if  it  is,  Satan  must  be  a  very  happy  being. 

The  defamer  is  as  much  more  infamous  than  the  open 
railer,  as  the  dark  assassin  is  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the 
fair  challenger.  And  the  defamer  and  assassin  resemble 
one  another,  in  that  the  wounds  which  both  give,  prove 
often  incurable. 

Reader,  if  thou  makest  it  thy  practice  to  divert  thyself 
with  mischief,  or  to  strive  to  build  thyself  an  ill-founded 
reputation  upon  the  ruins  of  thy  neighbour's,  or  thinkest, 
by  undermining  him,  to  get  thyself  into  the  advantages 
lie  now  enjoys  ;  remember  I  have  told  thee  there  will  be 


OF  VIRTUE.  333 

no  triumph  hereafter,  when  thou  comest  to  be  judged  for 
thy  idle  words.  The  ill-gotten  advantages,  thou  mayest  reap 
from  thy  base  treachery  to  thy  brother,  if  thou  shouldest 
be  successful,  which  is  seldom  the  case,  will  bring  a  curse 
alon^  with  them,  a  canker-worm,  that  will  destroy  both 
them  and  thee.     And  take  notice,  no  malicious,  envious, 
or  cruel  disposition  will  find  any  admittance  into  the  seats 
of  future  bliss.     If  thou  thinkest  to  be  hereafter  a  compan- 
ion of  angels  and  spirits  of  good  men,  resolve  in  time  to 
form  thy  mind  to  universal  benevolence.  Learn  to  consider 
even  the  abandoned  offender  as  still  a  human  creature,  the 
production  of  the  same  goodness  which  made  thyself;  as 
not  yet  out  of  the  reach  of  the  Divine  Grace,  and  there- 
forenot  to  be  given  up  as  absolutely  irrecoverable,  and  if 
recoverable,  again  a  fit  object  for  thy  love ;  for  thy  Maker's 
love.    Do  not  therefore  dare  in  thy  mind  to  hate  or  despise, 
nor  in  thy  conversation  to  reflect,  but  with  pity  and  human- 
ity, upon  even  the  real  vices  of  thy  fellow-creature,  much 
less  to  blacken  his  unspotted  reputation.     The  day  will 
come,  when  thou  shalt  stand  before  the  same  judgment 
seat  with  him.     He  is  not  thy  creature,  but  God's.    Leave 
him  to  God.     Is  a  fellow-creature  guilty  of  a  fault?  So 
art  thou.     It  is  no  part  of  thy  duty  to  inquire  into  his 
faults,  or  to  lay  them  open   to  others,  unless  to  prevent 
the  mischief  thou  knowest  he  is  preparing  to  do  another. 
If  thou  art  not  sure  of  a  superior  good  to  be  gained  by  dis- 
covering thy  neighbour's  faults,  why  shouldest  thou  take 
upon  thee  the  character  of  an  informer?  If  thy  neighbour 
is  really  guilty,  why  shouldest  thou  be  ambitious  of  the 
office  of  an  executioner,  or  delight  in  lashing  offenders? 
If  thou  hast  been  so  wicked  as  basely  to  stab  the  reputa- 
tion of  thy  innocent  fellow-creature,  I  charge  thee,  as  thou 
lovest  thy  soul,  that  thou  endeavour  to  heal  up  the  wound 
thou  hast  made. — Take  care,  that  every  single  person,  be 
the  number  ever  so  great,  whose  ear  thou  hast  abused,  be 
set  right  with  respect  to  the  character  of  the  innocent.     If 
those,  whose  minds  thou  hast  poisoned,  have  communi- 
cated the  venom  to  others,  be  sure  to  trace  the  wicked  lie, 
the  spawn  of  thy  own  foul  tongue,  through  all  its  doub- 
lings, and  destroy  it,  that  it  may  spread  its  deadly  influ- 
ence no  farther.    "Take  shame  to  thyself,  and  do  j ustice  to 


334  OF  VIRTUE. 

innocence.  Thou  hadst  better  suffer  shame  now,  than 
hereafter  before  God,  angels,  and  men. 

It  is  plainly  contrary  to  the  benevolent  affection  we 
ought  to  have  for  our  fellow-creature,  to  put  him  to  any 
pain  or  distress  of  body,  as  by  beating,  wounding,  or 
maiming,  unless  in  self-defence,  when  unjustly  attaeked  ; 
in  lawful  war ;  or  in  case  of  his  having  deserved  corporal 
correction,  and  if  we  are  authorised  by  a  just  law  to  in- 
flict, or  cause  it  to  be  inflicted  upon  him. 

If  it  be  contrary  to  the  affection  we  ought  to  have  for 
our  neighbour,  to  put  him  to  bodily  pain  needlessly,  or 
unjustly,  it  is  much  more  so,  to  deprive  him  of  life,  un- 
less he  has  forfeited  it  according  to  law. 

This  injury  is  so  much  the  more  atrocious,  as  it  is 
irreparable.  And  it  seems  to  me  very  much  to  be  doubt- 
ed, whether  human  authority  ought  in  reason  to  be  ex- 
tended to  the  pardon  of  the  murder  of  the  innocent. 
Scripture  is  express,  "  that  he  who  sheds  man's  blood, 
by  man  shall  his  blood  be  shed." 

There  seems  to  be  in  this  crime  somewhat  peculiarly 
offensive  to  Heaven,  in  that  the  Divine  Providence  does 
so  often,  by  most  striking  and  wonderful  interpositions, 
bring  the  authors  of  it  to  light  in  a  manner  different  from 
what  happens  in  other  cases.  For,  of  the  numbers,  who 
lose  their  lives  by  violence,  it  is  remarkable,  that  there  are 
few  instances  of  the  murderer's  escaping.  That  in  so 
great  and  wicked  a  city  as  London,  for  example,  there 
should  not  every  year  be  many  people  missing,  being  made 
away  with  secretly,  and  the  authors  of  their  death  never 
found,  is  very  remarkable.  We  find  that  often  the  sagac- 
ity of  dogs,  and  other  animals,  and  even  inanimate  things, 
have  been  the  occasion  of  bringing  this  foul  crime  to  light. 
But  the  most  common  means  of  the  discovery  of  bloody 
deeds  has  been  conscience,  which  acting  the  part  of  a 
torturer,  has  forced  the  tongue,  through  extremity  of  an- 
guish, to  disclose  the  secret,  which  no  other  but  itself 
could  bring  to  light. 

It  being  by  pride  and  passion,  that  men  are  incited  to 
break  loose  upon  one  another  in  acts  of  violence,  it  is  plain 
that  the  best  method  of  preventing  our  falling  into  them 
is,  by  subduing  those  fatal  passions,  which  transport  us 
beyond  the  power  and  use  of  reason.     And  if  nothing 


OF  VIRTUE.  335 

tends  more  to  enflame  every  passion,  than  the  use  of  strong 
liquors,  how  cautious  ought  we  to  be  of  indulging  the 
maddening  draught,  which  may  drive  us  upon  extrava- 
gances, we  could  not  in  our  cooler  hours  believe  ourselves 
capable  of?  Cruelty,  even  to  the  brute  creation,  is  alto- 
gether unj  ustifiable,  much  more  to  our  fellow-creatures. 
Nor  can  any  thinking  person  believe  it  possible,  that  a 
mind  disposed  to  barbarity,  or  insensible  of  the  miseries 
of  our  fellow- beings,  can  be  at  all  fit  for  a  future  state,  in 
which  goodness  is  to  prevail. 

A  wise  man  will  dread  the  beginning  of  quarrels.  For 
no  one  knows  where  a  quarrel,  once  begun,  may  end. 
None  of  us  knows  how  much  of  the  evil  spirit  is  either  in 
himself  or  in  his  adversary.  And  he,  who  begins,  is  in 
conscience  answerable  for  all  the  consequences.  Nor 
was  there  ever  a  falling  out  without  folly,  at  least  on  one 
side,  if  not  on  both.  Were  one  sure  the  worst  that  was  to 
happen  would  be  the  ruffling  of  his  own  or  his  neighbour's 
temper,  or  the  discomposing  of  their  spirits,  even  that  can- 
not be  without  guilt.  And  is  an  empire  of  consequence 
enough  to  make  any  thinking  man  offend  God,  and  endan- 
ger his  or  his  neighbour's  soul  ?  Tremble,  reader,  at  the 
thought  of  being  suddenly  snatched  away,  (as  nothing  is 
more  common  than  sudden  death)  and  sent  into  the  world 
of  spirits,  hot  from  a  contest  with  a  fellow-ci  "ature,  and 
fellow-christian. 

Hurting  our  neighbour's  health  by  tempting  him  to  be 
guilty  of  intemperance,  is  as  really  contrary  to  that  affec- 
tion we  ought  to  have  for  him,  as  wounding,  or  poisoning 
him.  It  is  no  more  an  alleviation  of  the  guilt  of  seducing 
him  into  debauchery,  that  it  may  not  cut  him  off  in  less 
than  several  years,  (which  is  likewise  more  than  can  be 
certainly  affirmed)  than  it  is  less  murder  to  poison  in  the 
Italian  manner,  than  with  a  dose  of  arsenic.  But  to  lead 
a  fellow- creature  into  a  course  of  debauchery  is,  as  above 
observed,  poisoning  both  soul  and  body  at  once. 

To  grieve,  afflict,  or  terrify  a  fellow-creature  needlessly, 
or  unjustly,  is  injuring  him  as  to  his  soul.  And  the  an- 
guish of  the  mind  being  more  severely  felt  than  bodily  pain 
the  inflicting  the  former  upon  an  innocent  person  is  a 
greater  act  of  cruelty.  It  is  therefore  shocking  to  think 
how  one  half  of  mankind  sport  with  the  anguish  of  the 


336  OF  VIRTUE. 

other.  How  little  they  make  the  case  of  their  fellow- crea- 
tures  their  own,  or  consider  what  they  must  suffer  from 
their  wicked  aspersions,  misrepresentations,  and  oppres- 
sive and  injurious  treatment ;  which  bring  a  pain  propor- 
tioned to  the  sensibility  of  the  sufferer.  And  every  one 
knows,  that  the  delicacy  of  some  minds  renders  them  as 
different  from  others,  as  the  temper  of  the  lamb  is  meeker 
than  that  of  the  tiger. 

But  the  most  direct  injury  against  the  spiritual  part  of 
our  fellow-creature  is,  leading  him  into  vice;  whether  that 
be  done  by  means  of  solicitation  ;  by  artfully  imposing  on 
his  judgment ;  by  powerful  compulsion  ;  or  by  prevailing 
example. 

Some  tempers  are  so  impotently  ductile,  that  they  can 
refuse  nothing  to  repeated  solicitation.  Whoever  takes 
the  advantage  of  such  persons,  is  guilty  of  the  lowest  base- 
ness. Yet  nothing  is  more  common,  than  for  the  de- 
bauched part  of  our  sex  to  show  their  heroism  by  a  poor 
triumph  over  weak,  easy,  thoughtless  woman  !  nothing- 
more  frequent,  than  to  hear  them  boast  of  the  ruin  of  that 
virtue,  of  which  it  ought  to  be  their  pride  to  be  the  defen- 
ders. "  Poor  fool !  she  loved  me,  and  therefore  could 
refuse  me  nothing."  Base  coward  !  Dost  thou  boast  thy 
conquest  over  one,  who,  by  thy  own  confession,  was  dis- 
abled for  resistance,  disabled  by  her  affection  for  thy  worth- 
less self?  Does  affection  deserve  such  a  return  ?  Is  supe- 
rior understanding,  or  rather  deeper  craft,  to  be  used  against 
thoughtless  simplicity  ;  and  its  shameful  success  to  be 
boasted  of?  Dost  thou  pride  thyself,  that  thou  hast  had  art 
enough  to  decoy  the  harmless  lamb  to  thy  hand,  that  thou 
mightest  shed  its  blood. 

To  call  good  evil,  and  evil  good,  is  in  scripture  stigma- 
tized with  a  curse.  And  to  put  out  the  bodily  eyes  is  not 
so  great  an  injury,  as  to  mislead,  or  extinguish  the  under- 
standing, and  impose  upon  the  judgment  in  matters  of  right 
and  wrong.  Whoever  is  guilty  of  this  inhuman  and  dia- 
bolical wickedness,  may  in  reason  expect  to  have  the  soul 
he  has  been  the  ruin  of,  required  hereafter  at  his  hands. 

I  am  very  suspicious,  that  many  persons  in  eminent 
stations  have  very  little  notion  of  their  being  highly  crim- 
inal in  the  sight  of  Gud,  in  setting  a  bad  example  before 
the  rest  of  mankind.     No  person,  who  thinks  at  all,  can 


OF  VIRTUE.  33? 

doubt,  whether  it  is  justifiable  to  advise,  or  force  others  to 
be  guilty  of  vice.  But  if  there  is  a  way  incomparably 
more  effectual  and  alluring,  by  which  people  are  more  pow- 
erfully drawn  into  wickedness ;  surely  that  is  more  mis- 
chievous and  hurtful,  and  ought  most  carefully  to  be 
avoided. 

Of  all  tyranny,  none  is  so  inhuman,  as  where  men  use 
their  power  over  others,  to  force  them  into  wickedness. 
The  bloody  persecutor,  who  uses  threats  and  punishments, 
prisons,  racks,  and  fires,  to  compel  the  unhappy  sufferer 
to  make  shipwreck  of  faith,  and  give  up  truth  and  a  good 
conscience  ;  the  corrupt  minister,  or  candidate,  who  bul- 
lies the  unhappy  dependant  into  the  perjured  vote  ;  these, 
and  such  like,  are  in  the  way  toward  being  qualified  for  be- 
coming furies  and  fiends  in  the  lower  regions.  For  who 
is  so  fit  for  the  place  of  a  tormentor,  to  stand  among  evil 
spirits,  and  plunge  the  emerging  souls  deeper  in  hell- 
flames,  than  he,  who,  on  earth,  made  it  his  infernal  em- 
ployment, to  thrust  his  fellow-creatures  into  those  ways, 
which  lead  down  to  the  chambers  oi destruction ? 

Reader,  if  thou  hast  ever  been  the  cause  of  a  fellow- 
creature's  guilt ;  if  thou  hast  by  force  or  art,  betrayed  a 
wretched  soul  into  vice,  and  acted  the  part  of  an  agent  of 
Satan  ;  I  charge  thee  On  thy  soul,  put  not  off  thy  repent- 
ance for  an  hour.  Prevent,  if  possible,  the  final  ruin  thy 
cursed  arts  tend  to  bring  upon  a  human  creature.  En- 
deavour to  open  the  eyes,  which  thou  hast  closed ;  to 
enlighten  the  understanding  thou  hast  blinded ;  and  to 
lead  again  into  the  right  way,  the  feet  thou  hast  taught  to 
wander  from  it.  If  thou  wilt  go  to  destruction,  why 
shouldest  thou  drag  others  with  thee  ?  If  thy  ambition 
prompts  thee  to  ruin  thy  own  soul,  spare  that  of  thy  poor 
fellow-creature,  who  has  no  concern  with  thy  schemes. 
Must  thy  brother  have  a  place  in  the  infernal  regions,  to 
get  thee  a  place  at  .court  ?  Take  back  the  damning  bribe ; 
prevent  the  perjured  vote  :  think  how1  thou  wilt  bear  the 
eternal  howlings  of  a  spirit,  by  thy  temptations  sunk  to 
irrecoverable  perdition. 

Besides  the  general  duty  of  benevolence  to  all  who  par- 
take of  the  same  common  nature  which  is  indispensably 
necessary  in  the  nature  of  things  toward  the  Very  being 
of  society,  in  the  present  state,  and  for  fitting  us  for  en- 

3U 


338  OF  VIRTUE. 

tering  into  a  more  extensive  society  hereafter ;  besides 
the  general  benevolence  we  owe  to  all  our  fellow- creatures 
it  is  evident,  that  we  owe  particular  duties  to  particular 
persons,  according  to  the  relations  and  connexions  we 
have  with  them.  This  propriety  is  founded  in  the  nature 
of  things,*  and  is  self-evident.  It  is  as  plain,  that  rever- 
ence to  superiors,  for  example,  is  proper,  as  that  all  the 
angles  of  a  plain  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  ones.  It 
is  as  evident,  that  the  contempt  of  one  really  superior  to  us, 
vroulcl  be  wrong,  as  that  it  would  be  wrong  to  say  that 
twice  two  are  equal  to  fifty. 

The  first,  and  most  important  of  all  relative  social  du- 
ties, is  that  which  we  owe  to  our  country.  That  we  ought 
to  study  the  interest  of  our  country,  is  plain  from  consid- 
ering, that  the  love  of  our  families,  and  even  self-love, 
cannot  be  pursued,  or  established,  on  any  rational  footing, 
but  what  will  extend  to  that  of  our  country  (for  it  is  im- 
possible for  all  families  and  individuals  to  be  happy  in  a 
ruined  country)  and  from  considering,  that,  if  no  person 
loved  his  country,  but  every  individual  was  indifferent 
about  its  interest,  no  country  could  subsist  ;  but  the 
world  must  quickly  come  to  an  end. 

The  virtue  of  patriotism  is  most  indispensable  in  per- 
sons in  high  stations,  whose  rank  gives  them  an  opportu- 
nity of  being  of  important  service  to  the  public  interest. 
These  ought  to  consider  themselves  as  general  protectors 
and  fathers,  to  whose  care  the  rest  of  mankind  are  by  Di- 
vine Providence  committed  ;  and  ought  to  tremble  at  the 
thought  of  betraying  so  awful  a  trust.  And  the  interest 
of  a  country  consists  briefly  in  its  being  properly  secured 
against  enemies  ;  in  its  being  governed  by  good  laws,  duly 
executed  ;  in  its  being  secured  in  its  liberties,  civil  and 
religious,  the  boundaries  of  which  last  cannot  be  too  am- 
ple, though  the  former  may  easily  be  extended  to  licen- 
tiousness, as  is  at  present  most  flagrantly  the  case  in  £?!g- 
land ;  in  its  lacing  kept  under  such  a  police,  and  such 
regulations,  as  may  tend  to  promote  health,  virtue,  public 
and  private,  and  real  religion  ;  in  a  due  encouragement  of 
commerce,  agriculture,  manufactures,  learning-  and  arts. 
Whatever  a  nation  can  be  the  better  for  the  encouragement 
of,  or  the  worse  if  discouraged,  is  the  province  of  gover- 

•  See  the  first  Section  of  this  lliird  book. 


OF  VIRTUE.  339 

nors  to  be  perfect  masters  of,  and  to  see  effectual  means 
used  for  carrying  rnto  execution  every  salutary  scheme. 
With  respect  to  the  health  of  a  people,  for  example,  the 
dutv  of  governors  is  not  only  to  take  ail  possible  care  to 
prevent  the  importation  of  infections  from  foreign  parts, 
but  that  the  people  have  it  not  in  their  power,  by  the  use 
of  unwholesome  provisions  of  any  kind,  to  hurt  their  eon- 
stitutions,  to  the  enfeebling  and  enervating  of  the  race,  as 
is  most  atrociously  and  extensively  the  case  at  present  in 
England,  by  means  of  too  low-priced  spirituous  liquors. 
Again,  it  is  unquestionably  the  duty  of  governors  to  see 
to  it,  that  there  be  no  encouragement  given  to  idleness, 
or  debauchery  ;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  all  vices  hurt- 
ful to  society  be  liable  to  every  kind  of  discouragement. 
That  there  be  something  found  for  every  creature  to  do, 
who  has  any  measure  of  health  or  strength,  that  all  excuse 
for  idleness  may  be  removed,  and  the  crime  of  doing  noth- 
ing be  severely  punishable.  That  lewdness  and  prostitu- 
tion be  at  least  driven  from  appearing  in  public  without 
shame  or  restraint,  to  the  corrupting  of  the  youth  of  a  na- 
tion. That  marriage,  the  main  support  of  states,  be  in  the 
most  effectual  manner  encouraged,  and  celibacy,  after  ma- 
ture age  (one  of  the  worst  offences  against  our  country) 
subjected  to  every  inconvenience  and  burden.  That  all 
possible  encouragement  be  given  to  every  person  who  en- 
riches or  adorns  his  country  by  any  valuable  discovery, 
or  noble  production,  in  arts,  or  sciences,  and  particularly 
to  those,  whose  literary  labours  tend  to  the  advancement 
of  public  and  private  virtue,  and  religion.  Whatever  tends 
to  the  increase  of  luxury  and  extravagance,  ought  to  be 
laid  under  severe  restraints,  and  heavy  taxes  ;  as  in  general 
all  taxes  ought  to  fall  on  the  luxury  and  superfluity  of  life, 
while  industry  and  frugality  escape  free. 

To  understand  thoroughly  all  these  particulars,  and  to 
endeavour  to  promote  and  improve  them,  is  the  proper 
calling  of  persons  of  rank  and  weight  in  a  nation.  And 
whoever  makes  no  other  advantage  of  a  high  station,  than 
to  plunder  his  country  to  gratify  his  avarice,  to  raise  him- 
self and  his  creatures  to  affluence,  or  to  indulge  sensual- 
ity, is  unworthy  of  the  honourable  rank  he  holds;  is  a 
treacherous  betrayer  of  his  sacred  trust ;  and  instead  of 
honour  deserves  the  contempt  of  all  men  of  virtue  and 


340  OF  VIRTUE. 

public  spirit.  For  the  true  dignity  of  high  life  consists 
in  a  superior  elevation  of  mind;  more  extensive  improve- 
ments in  knowledge;  a  greater  contempt  of  whatever  is 
unworth)  ;  a  more  enlarged  benevolence  to  mankind ;  a 
more  uncorrupted  integrity:  and  a  more  sublime  way  of 
thinking,  speaking,  and  acting,  than  is  to  be  seen  in  other 
men.  Whoever  is  not  in  these  respects  superior  to  the 
rest  of  mankind,  may  be  richer,  but  can  with  no  propriety 
of  speech  be  said  to  be  greater,  than  others.  For  it  is  not 
the  dress,  the  station,  or  the  fortune,  but  the  mind,  that 
is  the  man.  Therefore  a  little  mind  makes  a  mean  man  ; 
a  great  mind  a  great  man. 

Though  it  is  chiefly  by  the  great,  that  the  interest  of  a 
nation  is  to  be  consulted  and  supported,  it  is  certain,  that 
every  person  has  it  in  his  power  to  serve  his  country  less 
or  more.  Whoever  plants  a  tree,  incloses  a  field,  builds 
a  house,  is  the  cause  of  a  child's  being  brought  into  the 
world,  and  educated  for  becoming  a  valuable  member  of 
society ;  whoever,  in  short,  fills  a  useful  place  in  life,  serves 
his  country  more  than  five  hundred  of  those  idle  recluses, 
and  holy  drones,  with  which  popish  countries  swarm. 
Especially,  men  of  abilities,  in  the  most  private  stations, 
are  capable  of  serving  their  country,  if  not  by  action  yet 
by  suggesting  useful  hints  to  those,  whose  stations  'give 
them  an  opportunity  of  action ;  and  of  improving,  by  their 
conversation  and  writings,  the  minds  and  manners  of  their 
countrymen. 

The  true  love  of  our  country  Avill  show  itself  in  our  pre- 
ferring the  public  to  our  own  private  interest,  wherever 
they  come  in  competition.  In  a  conscientious  obedience 
to  the  laws,  though  to  our  own  particular  disadvantage.  In 
a  proper  reverence  to  our  governors,  especially  the  supreme ; 
even  in  cases  where  we  do  not  see  enough  (as  how  should 
persons  in  private  stations?)  to  be  able  to  explain  to  our- 
selves, or  others,  the  wisdom  of  all  their  measures. 

It  is  with  a  thorough  concern,  I  cannot  help  remarking 
here,  that  the  very  contrary  of  all  this  seems  to  be  the  rule, 
by  which  the  people  of  England  conduct  themselves  in 
the  present  age.  Is  it  not  notorious,  that  the  virtue  of 
public  spirit  is  become  little  else  than  a  subject  of  ridicule? 
That  venality  has  poisoned  all  ranks,  from  the  bribed  voter 
ill  a  country  borough,  upwards  to  the  candidate  for  a  plac^ 


OF  VIRTUE.  341 

in  the  great  assembly  of  the  nation ;  The  enormous  ex- 
penses bestowed,  and  horrible  perjury  commuted,  in  car- 
rying elections ;  with  the  numerous  controverted  election 
which  are  from  time  to  time  the  subject  of  examination 
before  the  house ;  and  the  variety  of  regulations  found  ne- 
cessary to  be  made  for  restraining  bribery  and  corruption 
(though  the  most  effectual  regulation,  I  mean,  of  voting 
in  all  cases  b}'  ballot,  which  the  wise  states  of  antiquity 
found  necessary,  has  not  been  tried)  all  this  shows  too 
flagrantly,  to  what  a  fatal  extent  this  ruinous  and  destruc- 
tive mischief  reaches.  Nor  is  there  any  hope  of  an  effect- 
ual cure  for  the  evil,  while  such  a  pernicious  maxim  in 
politics  as  the  following  is  held,  I  had  almost  said,  estab- 
lished :  That  it  is  lawful  to  bribe  for  the  good  of  the  nation, 
(as  they  very  improperly  speak)  in  order  to  be  on  even 
terms  with  the  enemies  of  the  nation.  The  Jacobite,  or 
Tory  party  (say  our  politicians)  will  get  themselves  elected 
into  parliament  by  bribery;  Why  must  not  the  gentlemen 
of  revolution-principles  endeavour  to  defeat  them  by  the 
same  means  ?  To  expose  this  fatal  doctrine,  which  is  some- 
times defended  by  very  well-meaning  men,  let  it  be  con- 
sidered, first,  that  Jacobitism,  or  Toryism,  in  the  south- 
ern part  of  the  nation,  is  in  fact  little  more  than  another 
word  for  the  party  who  are  out,  and  would  be  in.  There 
are  few  men  of  the  least  sense,  and  knowledge  of  the  world, 
on  this  side  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  who  do  in  sober 
earnest  wish  to  see  a  papist  on  the  British  throne.  Slavery, 
civil  and  religious,  will  not  go  down  with  those  who  have 
long  enjoyed  the  sweets  of  liberty.  And  if  Jacobitism 
and  Toryism  be  little  more  than  a  bugbear  ;  and  the  virtue 
of  a  people,  the  only  sure  foundation  of  government  and 
national  happiness,  is  to  be  corrupted  and  ruined  by  a  con- 
tention between  two  sets  of  men,  either  of  which  might 
be  as  likely  to  pursue  the  interest  of  the  nation  as  the  other, 
it  is  plain  that  both  sides  are  guilty  ;  the  pretended  Whigs, 
who  are  in,  and  the  pretended  Tories,  who  are  out;  it 
being  equally  contrary  to  virtue,  and  to  the  laws  of  the 
land,  to  bribe  for  one  side  as  for  another.  But  supposing- 
the  case  to  be  exactly  as  first  put,  and  that  all,  who  pre- 
tend to  be  disaffected,  were  really  so  in  their  hearts ;  and 
that  their  inclination,  and  their  power,  to  subvert  the  con- 
stitution were  much  greater  than  they  are ;  it  is  evident. 


342  OF  VIRTUE. 

that  to  do  a  positive  evil,  that  an  uncertain  good  may  come, 
is  directly  contrary  both  to  reason  and  religion.  For  the 
real  friends  of  liberty  to  oppose  the  enemies  of  our  coun- 
try, by  bribery  and  corruption,  is  directly  iniquitous  and 
impious.  For,  to  proceed  in  that  manner  is  to  confound 
the  immutable  nature  of  right  and  wrong,  to  throw  down 
the  sacred  barriers,  established  by  Divine  authority  for 
guarding  the  awful  laws  of  virtue  from  violation,  which 
are  to  be  held  in  the  utmost  reverence,  and  on  no  account 
to  be  broke  through,  if  not  only  a  kingdom  should  suffer 
a  revolution  ;  but  if  the  solar  system,  or  whole  visible  uni- 
verse, were  to  go  to  wreck.  For  one  act  of  perjury,  or 
other  gross  deviation  from  virtue,  is  more  opposite  to  the 
Divine  Nature,  and  economy  of  the  world,  than  the  extinc- 
tion of  a  thousand  suns,  with  the  destruction  of  all  their 
planets.  But  besides  ail  this,  what  can  be  more  absurd, 
than  to  talk  of  supporting  a  state  by  vice,  the  very  means 
which  have  proved  the  ruin  of  all  the  states  that  ever  have 
sunk ;  and  without  which  no  state  could  be  brought  to  ruin? 
Alas,  does  it  become  such  poor  short-sighted  creatures  as 
we  are,  to  project  schemes  for  ourselves,  to  violate  the 
eternal  laws  of  virtue,  in  order,  forsooth  to  put  it  in  the  pow- 
er of  Divine  Providence  to  do  what  it  could  not  without 
our  assistance  ?  Can  any  politician  think  that  promoting 
bribery  or  perjury  are  likely  to  gain  us  the  Divine  Protec- 
tion? or  that  the  kingdom  can  stand  independent  of  the 
Divine  Protection?  or  that  it  can  stand  without  virtue? 
These  are  deplorable  expedients.  Like  opiates  in  an  acute 
distemper  they  lull  things  into  peace  for  a  short  time,  while 
the}  slowly,  but  surely,  wear  out  the  strength  and  vitals 

of  the  constitution. O  virtue  !   O  my  country! 

Is  it  not  also  notorious,  that  the  bulk  of  our  laws, 
through  the  criminal  negligence,  or  timidity,  of  those,  in 
whose  hands  the  executive  power  is  lodged,  and  through 
the  licentiousness  of  the  people,  who  seems  to  think  it 
the  privilege  of  free-born  Englishmen  to  break  their  own 
laws,  are,  instead  of  a  necessary  restraint,  become  a  mere 
bugbear  ?  Above  all  things,  the  law-makers  are  some- 
times lawbreakers,  is  a  shocking  accusation  to  be  laid 
against  persons  in  eminent  stations.  That  the  same  per- 
sons in  their  legislative  capacity  should  concur  to  the 
making  of  regulations  for  the  suppression  of  the  destrue* 


OF  VIRTUE.  343 

tive  practices  of  smuggling,  gaming,  unduly  influencing 
elections  and  the  like,  and  in  their  private  capacity  should 
be  the  promoters  of  those  ruinous  vices;  is  doing  what 
they  can  to  turn  government  into  a  farce,  and  reduce  a 
nation  to  a  state  of  anarchy. 

Is  it  not  monstrous,  that  by  means  of  the  madness  and 
insolence  of  party,  such  a  degree  of  arrogant  and  seditious 
virulence  is  worked  up  in  the  spirits  of  the  people,  that  the 
lowest  of  the  mob  thinks  himself  wise  enough  to  take  to 
task  the  governors  of  the  state,  and  assumes  the  liberty, 
over  his  cups,  to  rail  at  the  legislators  of  his  country  ;  by 
which  means,  the  best  constitutioned  kingdom  upon  earth 
seems  hastening  to  a  state  of  confusion;  while  the  people's 
reverence  for  lawful  authority,  whereby  obedience  sub- 
sists, is  destroyed,  the  measures  of  government  are  embar- 
rassed; and  our  governors  discouraged  from  attempting 
to  alter,  or  new-model  any  thing,  that  may  be  amiss  ;  since 
nothing  can  be  done  without  clamour  and  disturbance, 
and  laws,  when  enacted,  are,  through  the  perverseness  of 
the  people,  of  very  little  efficacy. 

These  are  not  the  effects  of  the  love  of  our  country. 
Nor  the  infamous  practice  of  smuggling,  and  other  mean 
arts,  by  which  the  laws  for  raising  a  revenue  for  defraying 
the  necessary  expenses  of  government,  are  evaded.  Yet 
it  is  notorious,  that  the  avowed  principle  of  numbers  of 
persons  in  trade,  is,  That  all  is  well  got,  that  is  got  by  cheat- 
ing the  king,  as  they  absurdly  talk.  For  defrauding  the  pub- 
lic revenue,  is  in  effect  defrauding  the  people,  who  pay  it, 
and  making  it  necessary  for  the  government  to  lay  additional 
taxes,  and  to  clog  and  incumber  trade  and  industry,  to 
make  up  the  deficiencies  occasioned  by  the  depredations 
of  a  set  of  lawless  people,  the  plague  and  ruin  of  fair  tra- 
ders. It  is  amazing,  that  rational  creatures  can  contrive 
so  effectually  to  blind  their  reason,  and  stupify  their  con- 
science, as  to  bring  themselves  to  argue,  that  though  it  is 
confessedly  unjustifiable  and  wicked  in  a  son  to  disobey 
his  parent,  yet  there  is  no  harm  in  disobeying  that  author- 
ity, which  is  higher  than  the  parental,  I  mean,  that  of  the 
law  of  the  land  :  that,  though  it  is  wrong  to  cheat  or  lie, 
there  is  no  harm  in  taking  a  false  oath  at  the  custom-house, 
by  which  the  guilt  of  prejury  is  incurred;  the  revenue, 


344  of  virtue: 

or  more  properly  the  nation,  robbed ;  and  the  fair  trader 
injured. 

People  may  deceive  themselves  as  they  please :  But 
there  is  hardly  any  worse  species  of  vice,  than  disobedi- 
ence and  insolence  to  supreme  lawful  authority.  Nor 
will  any  person  be  fit  for  a  future  state  of  peace,  regularity, 
and  perfect  obedience  to  the  universal  Governor,  (v»  ithout 
which  there  can  be  no  happiness)  who  has  in  this  state 
habituated  himself  to  lawless  opposition  and  contempt  of 
government. 

To  raise  an  opposition  or  rebellion  in  a  country  against 
the  supreme  authority,  except  upon  most  powerful  causes 
and  motives,  is  a  crime  of  as  horrid  and  complicated  a  kind, 
as  any  to  which  human  wickedness  is  capable  of  proceed- 
ing. For  the  consequences  of  a  general  disturbance  in  a 
state,  are  the  perpetration  of  all  kinds  of  iniquity.  And 
where  so  dreadful  a  consequence  is  foreseen,  it  is  evident, 
nothing  less  than  the  prevention  of  a  total  subversion  of 
rights  and  privileges,  civil  and  religious,  of  which  the  last 
is  much  the  most  important,  is  a  sufficient  plea  for  disturb- 
ing the  general  peace. 

This  was  confessedly  the  case  at  the  revolution  in 
1688.  But  those  men,  who  delight  in  misrepresenting  a 
government,  and  making  it  odious  and  vile  in  the  eyes 
of  the  people,  and  do  all  they  can  to  thwart  and  embarrass 
its  measures,  merely  because  themselves  have  no  share 
in  the  emoluments  of  place  and  power,  are  the  pests  of 
society. 

One  of  the  greatest  curses  of  a  nation,  and  of  liberty 
in  general,  is  that  of  our  unhappy  divisions  and  parties  in 
religion  and  politics.  As  for  the  first,  it  is  a  subject  of 
too  serious  and  important  a  nature  to  be  made  a  mere 
badge  of  faction,  or  a  bone  of  contention.  The  design  of 
religion  is  to  improve  and  dignify  our  natures,  to  correct 
our  errors  in  judgment  and  to  regulate  our  lives.  And 
whoever  applies  it  as  a  tool  of  state,  as  an  artifice  for  aggran- 
dizing himself  or  his  friends,  and  a  cloak  to  conceal  his 
secular  views,  is  guilty  of  prostituting  the  most  sacred 
thing  in  the  world  to  the  vilest  uses.  As  for  political  par- 
ties, itis  notorious,  that  those  who  assume  to  themselves  the 
most  splendid  titles  of  being  on  the  patriot  side,  or  coun- 
try-interest, and  against  the  court,  as  their  cant  is,  gener- 


OF  VIRTUE.  345 

ally  make  a  clamour  for  pretended  liberty,  and  the  good  of 
their  country,  only  to  have  their  mouths  stopped  with  a 
place  or  a  pension  ;  and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  those  who 
stand  up  in  defence  of  all  the  measures  of  those  in  power, 
without  distinction,  only  do  so  with  a  view  to  get,  or  to 
keep  some  emolument.  As  it  is  inconceivable  that  either 
one  or  the  other  party  should  be  constantly  in  the  right, 
or  invariably  ill  the  wrong,  you  may  conclude,  thai,  who- 
eve  r  inclines  universally  for  or  against  either  side,  with- 
out ever  altering  his  opinion,  is  either  a  man  of  very  mean 
abilities,  or  has  some  indirect  scheme  in  view.  The  trim- 
mer, who  gives  his  vote  sometimes  with  one  side,  some- 
times with  the  other,  according  to  the  view  he  has  of  the 
consequences,  is  the  only  man  of  integrity.  And  1  can- 
not help  advising  my  readers  to  look  upon  all  parties, 
and  all  who  make  either  religion  or  politicks  a  part v -affair, 
in  the  same  light,  and  to  keep  clear  of  all  sides  alike ; 
making  it  their  business  io  consult  the  real  good  of  their 
country,  and  the  real  welfare  of  their  souls,  without  any 
eye  to  the  sordid  gains  oi  corruption,  or  any  desire  to  fight 
the  battles  of  either  party. 

To  conclude,  our  duty  to  our  country  comprehends  all 
the  relative  duties;  and  we  are  to  sacrifice  private  interest, 
family,  and  life  itself  to  it,  when  called  upon :  and  are  to 
obey  its  laws  in  all  cases,  where  they  do  not  clash  with 
the  only  superior  authority  in  the  universe,  I  mean  the 
Divine. 

Next  under  the  authority  of  national  government  is  the 
parental.  The  propriety  and  necessity  of  submission  to 
parents  appears  from  considering,  that  it  is  evidently 
necessary,  that  some  person,  or  persons,  should  undertake 
the  care  of  children  in  the  helpless  time  of  life  ;  and  that 
none  are  so  proper  as  the  parents.  In  consequence  of  this, 
it  is  necessary  that  children,  before  they  come  to  the  use 
ol  reason,  be  governed  by  authority,  and  there  is  none  so 
natural  as  that  of  parents  ;  it  is  therefore  their  part  to  return 
the  reciprocal  duties  of  love,  gratitude,  reverence,  and 
obedience  to  those  who  have  taken  care  of  them,  when  no 
one  eise  would  undertake  that  office.  Anel  it  being  once 
made  the  appointed  course  and  order  of  things,  the  law  of 
filial  duty  is  not  to  be  broke  through  by  the  children  on 
account  of  a  failure  in  the  parents  in  discharging  their 

2  X 


MG  OK  VIRTUE. 

duty ;  _  nor,  contrary  wise,  are  parents  to  give  up  the  care 
of  their  children,  though  they  should  turn  out  untowardly. 
Obedience  to  parents  extends  to  all  things  that  are  con- 
sistent with  the  laws  of  our  country,  and  of  God,  both 
which  authorities  are  superior  to  that  of  parents. 

The  duty  of  parents  to  their  children  is  briefly  to  take 
care  that  proper  provision  be  made  for  their  bodilv  inter- 
est, by  food,  clothing,  and  education  ;  and  more  especially 
for  that  of  their  minds,  by  forming  them,  from  the  earliest 
years,  to  virtue  and  religion. 

The  duty  of  spiritual  pastors  to  their  people,  is  to  do 
whatever  is  in  their  power  for  the  good  of  the  souls  com- 
muted to  their  charge,  by  preaching,  catechising,  coun- 
selling, or  writing.  However  improper  it  mav  be  thought 
for  a  layman  to  enlarge  upon  this  relative  dutv,  it  cannot 
be  improper  to  refer  to  one,  from  whom  directions  on  this 
head  will  come  with  unexceptionable  authority  ;  I  mean 
the  apostle  Paul  in  his  Epistles  to  Timothy.  The  duty 
of  people  to  their  pastors,  is  to  show  them  a  great  deal 
more  reverence  and  gratitude  than  is  commonly  done  in 
England. 

The  duty  of  instructors  of  youth  is  briefly  to  fill  the 
place  of  parents  in  forming  those  consigned  "to  their  care 
by  the  parents,  to  usefulness  in  life,  and  happiness  here- 
after. The  duty  of  young  persons  to  their  governors  and 
teachers  is  obedience,  and  diligence  in  endeavouring  to 
improve  themselves  while  under  their  care;  and  gratitude 
and  love  to  those,  by  whose  faithful  diligence  they  had 
the  opportunity  of  becoming  wise  and  good  men.  And 
the  duty  of  gratitude  to  parents  and  teachers  on  this 
account  will  be  binding  upon  those  who  have  been  the 
objects  of  their  care,  not  only  for  life,  but  to  eternity. 

The  duty  of  masters  to  servants,  is  to  pay  them  accord- 
ing to  engagement  ;  to  treat  them  as  fellow- creatures, 
though  in  an  inferior  station  ;  and  to  take  care,  that  they 
have  opportunities  of  knowing  their  duty  and  means  of 
happiness.  That  of  servants  to  masters  is  faithfulness, 
diligence,  and  obedience  in  all  lawful  cases. 

The  duty  of  husbands  to  wives,  is  the  tenderest  love, 
and  warmest  desire  of  their  happiness  in  life,  and  to  eter- 
nity. ^  That  of  wives  to  husbands,  besides  reciprocal  love, 
takes  in  obedience  in  all  lawful  things.     This  arises  from 


OF  VIRTUE.  347 

the  consideration  of  the  priority  of  creation,  and  superior 
dignity  of  the  male  sex,  to  which  Nature  has  given  the 
greater  strength  of  mind  and  body,  and  therefore  fitted 
them  for  authority.  But  as,  on  one  hand,  it  is  not  the  part 
of  a  good  wife  to  contest  the  authority  of  her  husband;  so 
neither  is  it  of  a  good  husband  to  stand  up  for  the  privi- 
lege of  his  sex,  while  he  shows  little  of  the  tenderness 
which  is  due  to  the  weaker.  This  is,  in  short,  a  string 
never  to  be  touched  ;  for  it  always  introduces  discord,  and 
interrupts  the  matrimonial  harmony. 

Love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  whole  duty  mutually  owing 
by  collateral  relations,  as  brothers,  sisters,  and  the  like. 
And  such  persons  may  easily  know  whether  they  do  their 
duty  to  one  another,  by  considering  how  people  behave  to 
those  they  really  love. 

In  friendship,  of  which  I  have  treated  in  the  first  book, 
the  duties  are  mutual  love,  fidelity,  secrecy,  and  a  desire  of 
promoting  one  another's  happiness  both  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral. Virtue  is  the  only  foundation  of  friendship.  The 
commerce  of  the  wicked  is  rather  to  be  called  a  combina- 
tion or  conspiracy  against  mankind,  than  friendship. 

The  duty  of  the  rich  to  the  poor,  is  feeding  the  hungry, 
clothing  the  naked,  visiting  the  sick,  and  in  general  sup- 
plving  the  wants  of  the  necessitous.  Those  to  whom  the 
Divine  Providence  has  been  distinguishingly  bountiful,  are 
to  consider  themselves  as  stewards  of  the  good  gifts  of 
heaven,  which  they  are  not  to  lavish  away  upon  their  own 
extravagant  lusts,  but  to  distribute  to  their  distressed 
brethren.  Nor  ought  they  to  think  of  this  as  an  act  of  gen- 
erosity, or  almost  of  supererogation,  as  many  seem,  by 
their  ostentatious  way  of  giving  charity,  to  do.  It  is  not 
what  they  may  do,  or  let  alone.  It  is  not  to  be  carried  to 
what  length  they  please,  and  no  farther.  They  are  ex- 
pected to  give  all  they  can  give,  and  then  to  think  they 
have  done  only  what  they  ought.  Since  to  do  less,  if  we 
will  take  our  Saviour's  own  word  for  it,  is  a  neglect  which 
will  exclude  from  future  bliss.  There  is  indeed  great 
prudence  to  be  used,  that  a  judicious  choice  of  objects 
may  be  made,  and  that  the  charity  given  may  not  prove 
a  prejudice,  instead  of  an  advantage.  If  what  is  given 
serves  to  support  in  idleness  and  debauchery,  it  had  much 
better  be  withheld.     Care  is  also  to  be  taken,  that  our 


348  OF  VIRTUE. 

churity  be  not  given  for  fashion,  ostentation,  or  anv  other 
view ,  but  obedience  to  God,  and  benevolence  to  our  fel- 
low-creatures. In  as  far  as  any  other  consideration  has 
influence,  in  so  far  the  real  excellence  of  such  good  works 
is  lessened  in  the  sight  of  Him,  who  searches  the  heart. 

The  duty  of  the  poor,  is  gratitude  to  their  benefactors; 
and  industry,  in  endeavouring  as  much  as  they  can  to 
lighten  the  burden  of  their  own  support  to  those  who  con- 
tribute to  it. 

Propriety  and  rectitude  require,  that  the  learned  and 
wise  use  their  endeavours  to  instruct  and  advise  the  igno- 
rant and  unthinking.  And  in  general,  that  every  person 
employ  his  peculiar  talent  or  advantage  for  the  most  ex- 
tensive usefulness.  It  is  with  this  view  that  such  remark- 
able differences  are  made  in  the  gifts  of  mind  and  fortune, 
which  different  persons  share.  These  are  parts  of  their 
respective  trials;  and  they  will  be  judged  according  to 
the  use  they  have  made  of  them. 
^  Our  duty  to  benefactors  is  evidently  love  and  gratitude. 
Even  to  enemies  we  owe,  according  to  the  Christian  law, 
of  which  afterwards,  forgiveness  and  intercession  with 
Heaven  for  them  ;  which  also  we  are  obliged  to  for  all  our 
fellow-creatures. 

The  rectitude  or  propriety  of  these  several  obligations 
being  self-evident,  it  would  "be  only  wasting  time  to  take 
the  pains  to  establish  it  by  arguments. 

The  infinitely  wise  Governor  of  the  universe  has  pfcu 
ced  us  in  this  state,   and  engaged  us  in  such  a  variety   of 
connexions  with,  and  relations  to  one  another,  on  purpose 
to  habituate  lis  to  a  sense  of  duty,  and  love  of  obedience 
and  regularity.      The  more  duties  we  have  to  do  in  our 
present  state  of  discipline,  the  more  occasion  we  have  for 
watchfulness  and  dilioence,  and  a  due  exertion  of  every 
noble  power  of  the  mind.     And  the  more  practice  we 
have  of  exertiqg  our  powers,  the  stronger  they  must  grow  ; 
and  the  more  we  practice  obedience,   the  more  tractable 
and  obedient  we  must  naturally  become  ;  and  to  be  obe- 
dient to  rhe  Supreme  Governor  of  the  world,  is  the  very 
perfection  of  every  created   nature.     Again,  the  various 
connexions  among  mankind,  and  the  different  duties  re- 
sulting from  then},  naturally  tend  to  work  in  us  a  settled 
and  extensive  benevolence  for  our  fellow- beings,  aad  tq 


OF  VIRTUE.  S49 

habituate  us  to  think  and  act  with  tenderness,  forbearance, 
and  affection  toward  them.  And  k  is  evident  thai  this  sub- 
lime and  godlike  disposition  cannot  be  too  much  cultiva- 
ted. We  can  never  be  in  a  state,  in  which  it  will  no<  be 
for  our  advantage,  and  for  the  advantage  of  all  the  other 
beings  with  whom  we  may  be  connected,  that  we  be  dis- 
posed to  extensive  and  unbounded  benevolence  for  one 
another.  It  is  obvious,  that  a  happy  society,  in  which 
hatred  and  ill-will  should  universally  prevail,  is  an  incon- 
ceivable and  contradictory  idea.  Whatever  may  be  the 
nature  of  the  states  we  may  be  hereafter  designed  for,  it  is 
evident  we  shall  be  the  fitter  for  them,  for  having  cultiva- 
ted in  our  minds  an  extensive  universal  love  of  all  other 
beings.  But  if  we  suppose,  what  seems  agreeable  to 
Scripture  views,  as  well  as  to  reason,  that  those  who  shall 
be  found  worthy  of  a  future  life,  are  to  be  raised  to  sta- 
tions, not  of  indolence  and  inactivity,  but  of  extensive 
usefulness  in  the  creation,  such  as  we  suppose  to  be  filled 
at  present  by  angels,  I  mean  of  guardians  and  gover  i  fs 
over  beings  of  lower  ranks,  during  their  state  of  trial  and 
discipline;  if  this  be  a  reasonable  supposition,  it  is  plain, 
that  the  sublime  virtue  of  benevolence  cannot  be  carried 
too  far.  And  this  sets  forth  the  Divine  Wisdom  in 
placing  us  in  a  state  in  which  we  have  such  opportuni- 
ties of  being  habituated  to  a  disposition  so  useful  and  ne- 
cessary for  all  orders  of  rational  beings  throughout  all  pe- 
riods of  their  existence. 

It  will  be  the  reader's  wisdom  here  carefully  to  exam- 
ine his  conduct,  that  he  may  know  whether  he  acts  the 
part  of  a  valuable  and  useful  member  of  society.  If  he 
has  wrought  into  his  soul  a  kind,  a  generous,  and  exten- 
sive benevolence  toward  all  his  fellow-creatures,  whether 
in  high  or  low  stations,  whether  rich  or  poor,  whether  for- 
eigners or  countrymen,  whether  of  his  own  religion  or 
any  other,  learned  or  unlearned,  virtuous  orvicious,  friends 
or  enemies  ;  if  he  finds  it  recommendation  enough  to  his 
regard  or  affection  that  it  is  a  fellow -creature  who  wants 
his  assistance,  a  being  produced  by  the  same  Almighty 
hand  which  created  himself;  if  he  earnestly  wishes,  and 
is  at  all  times  ready  to  promote  the  good  of  his  fellow- 
creatures  by  all  means  in  his  power,  by  his  riches,  his  ad- 
vice, his  interest,  his  labour,  at  any  time,  seasonable  or 


350  OP  VIRTUE. 

unseasonable,  in  a  way  agreeable  to  his  own  particular  tem- 
per and  inclination,  or  in  a  manner  that  may  be  less  suit- 
abic  to  it ;  if  he  finds  himself  ready  with  the  open  arms  of 
forgiveness  to  receive  his  enemy,  the  moment  he  appears 
disposed  to  repentance  and  reconciliation  ;  if  he  finds  that 
it  would  be  a  pleasure  to  him  to  do  good  to  those  who  have 
injured  him,  though  his  goodness  should  never  be  known  ; 
if  he  finds  that  he  is  in  no  part  of  his  private  devotions 
more  zealous  than  when  he  prays  from  his  heart  to  Him 
who  searches  all  hearts,  that  his  "enemy  mav  be  pardoned, 
reformed,  and  made  as  happy  hereafter  as  himself  j  if  he 
finds  that  one  disappointment  or  abuse  of  his  goodness,  or 
ten  such  discouragements,  do  not  cool  his  ardour  for  the 
good  of  mankind  ;  that  he  does  not  immediately  fall  out  of 
conceit  with  a  public-spirited  design,  because  of  its  diffi- 
culties or  uncertainty  of  success,  but  that  he  can  stand  the 
raillery  of  those  narrow  souls,  who  cannot  rise  to  his  pitch 
of  disinterested  benevolence  ;  and  that,  though  he  goes  on 
resolutely,  and  without  wearying  in  well-doing,  he  does 
not  do  it  from  pride  or  self-sulficiency,  but  from  real  well- 
meant  goodness  of  heart  and  design ;  "if  he  does  not  search 
for  excuses,  but  considers  himself  as  obliged  to  be  ahvavs 
endeavouring  to  gain  some  kind  and  beneficial  end,  with- 
out regard  to  its  being  more  or  less  directly  in  his  way,  or 
more  or  less  promising  of  success,  if  it  is  "the  best  he  can 
do  at  the  time,  and  if  no  one  else  will  do  it  better,  or  en- 
gage in  it  all ;  and  that  after  all  he  considers  himself  as  an 
unprofitable  servant,  as  having  done  still  only  his  indis- 
pensable duty  ;  if  the  reader  finds  this  to  be"  the  turn  of 
his  mind,  he  may  conclude  that  he  is  not  far  from  that 
perfection  of  benevolence,  which  the  Divine  rectitude  and 
Jaw  require,  and  which  is  necessary   to  fit  every  human 
mind  for  being  a  member  of*  an  universal  society  hereafter. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  finds,  that  he  is  wholly  wrapt  up 
in  himself;   that  he  thinks  with  no  relish  of  the  happiness 
of  any  one  else  ;   that  his  utmost  benevolence  extends  no 
wider  than  the  circle  of  his  own  family,  friends,  or  panv  ; 
that  all  he  wants  is  to  enrich  himself  and  his  relations  ; 
that  he  cannot  look  with  any  personal  tenderness  or  con- 
siderations upon  a  Frenchman  or  Spaniard,   a  Jew  or  a 
Papist,  or  even  a  churchman  or  dissenter,   if  he  differs 
from  them  in  profession  ;  if,  reader,  thou  findest  this  to 


OF  VIRTUE.  351 

be  the  turn  of  thy  mind  ;  if,  in  a  word,  thou  dost  not  find 
it  to  be  thy  meat  and  thy  drink  to  do  thy  fellow-creature 
good,  if  thou  dost  not  love  thy  neighbour  with  the  same 
affection  as  thyself,  be  assured  thou  art  not  at  present  of 
the  disposition  of  mind,  which  the  Universal  Governor 
would  have  all  his  rational  creatures  brought  to ;  and 
may  est  judge  what  chance  thou  hast  for  His  favour,  whose 
favour  is  life  and  happiness ;  whose  love  to  all  his  crea- 
tures tends  to  draw  and  unite  them  to  himself,  and  would 
have  them  all  love  one  another,  that  by  universal  love  they 
may  be  united  into  one  society,  under  one  infinite  Lord 
and  universal  Father. 


SECTION  VIII. 
Of  our  Obligations  with  Respect  to  our  Creator. 

WE  come  now  to  the  third  and  noblest  part  of  the  duty 
of  rational  beings,  which  is  also  their  highest  honour,  I 
mean,  That  which  they  owe  to  the  Creator,  Preserver,  and 
Governor  of  themselves,  and  the  Universe.  The  first  part, 
or  foundation  of  which  is,  The  belief  of  his  existence. 

The  abstract  proof  of  the  existence  of  God  requires  noth- 
ing to  be  granted,  but  only,  That  something  now  exists ; 
which  concession  forces  the  mind  to  confess  the  necessity 
of  some  First  Cause,  existing  naturally,  necessarily,  and 
independently  upon  any  other ;  Himself  the  cause  of  all 
things ;  Himself  the  fountain  of  being,  and  plenitude  of 
perfection. 

This  proof  leaves  no  room  for  caviling  :  but  effectually 
cuts  off  the  subtle  disputer  from  every  possible  evasion  or 
subterfuge.  It  is  not  however  so  easy  for  those  who  have 
been  accustomed  to  abstract  reasoning,  to  see  the  conclu- 
sive force  of  it.  For  the  bulk  of  mankind,  the  fittest  argu- 
ments for  the  being  of  God  are  taken  from  the  stupendous 
works  of  Nature.  And  what  object  is  there  in  the  whole 
compass  of  nature,  animate  or  inanimate,  great  or  small, 
rare  or  common,  which  does  not  point  to  the  almighty 
Author  of  all  things  *  Not  only  those  which  strike  us  with 
astonishment,  and  fill  our  minds  with  their  greatness  ;  not 
only  the  view  of  a  rolling  ocean,  a  blazing  sun,  or  the  con- 
cave of  heaven  sparkling  wilh  its  innumerable  starry  fires; 


352  OF  VIRTUK. 

but  even  the  Sight  of  a  flower,  a  pile  of  grass,  or  a  rep- 
tile of  the  dust,  every  particle  of  matter  around  us;  the 
body,  into  which  his  breath  has  infused  our  life  ;  the  soiil, 
b\   which  we  think  and  know  ;  whatever  we  fix  our  eye  or 

thought  upon,  holds  forth  the  ever-present  Deity.  In  what 
state  or  place  must  we  be,  to  be  insensible  of  Him,  by 
whom  our  very  being  is  preserved  ?  Whither  miibt  we 
withdraw  ourselves,  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  his  Divine 
communications,  who  minutely  fills  every  point  of  bound- 
less space?  Is  it  possible  to  obliterate  from  our  minds  the 
thought  of  him  in  whom  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our 
being  ? 

The  first  and  fundamenta1  duty  of  all  rational  beings  to 
God,  is,  as  I  have  said,  To  believe  his  existence.  Now, 
though  there  is  nothing  praise-worth*  in  believing  the  most 
important  truth  upon  insufficient  grounds ;  and  though, 
on  the  contrary,  credulity  is  a  weakness  unworthy  of  a 
being  endowed  with  a  capacity  of  examining  and  finding 
out  truth  :  yet  there  may  be  a  great  wickedness  in  unbelief; 
For  a  person  may,  from  obstinacy  and  perverseness,  reject 
important  truth,  or  through  levity,  folly,  or  an  attachment 
to  vice,  may  avoid  the  proper  and  natural  means  of  convic- 
tion. So  that  the  effect,  which  the  rational  and  clear  per- 
suasion of  important  truth  might  have  had  upon  his  dis- 
position and  practice,  may  be  lost.  And  it  is  greatly  to 
be  suspected,  that  multitudes  are  guilty  of  this  last  crime, 
with  respect  to  the  awful  doctrine  of  the  existence  of  God. 
If  they  be  asked,  whether  they  believe  that  there  is  a  God, 
they  willtakeitamiss  tobe  suspected  of  the  least  inclination 
to  Atheism.  But  it  is  evident,  from  their  lives  and  conver- 
sations, that  if  they  believe  the  existence  of  God  at  all,  it 
is  in  such  a  manner  as  is  next  to  no  belief.  They  think 
not  of  the  matter.  There  may,  or  may  not,  be  a  God 
for  any  thing  they  know  or  care. 

But  to  believe  this  important  doctrine  in  a  manner  be- 
coming a  rational  creature,  is  to  bear  in  mind  a  constant 
and  habitual  impression  of  an  infinitely  perfect  nature,  he 
Author  and  Fountain  of  existence,  the  wise  and  righteous 
Governor  of  the  universe,  who  is  every  where  present, 
beholding  ail  the  actions  and  intentions  of  his  creatures,  to 
whom  ail  rational  beings  are  accountable,  aid  upon  ivhose 
favour  or  disapprobation  their  fate  to  all  eternity  wholly 


OF  VIRTUE.  353 

depends.  To  think  of  the  Supreme  Being  in  any  other  way 
than  this,  is  not  believing  His  existence  in  a  rational  and 
consistent  manner. 

And  did  men  really  admit  the  rational  belief  of  a  God; 
did  they  impress  their  minds  with  a  fixed  and  constant 
attention  to  the  awful  thought  of  their  being  under  the  con- 
tinual inspection  of  their  judge,  we  should  not  see  them 
proceed  in  the  manner  they  do.  For  I  ask,  How  the  buik 
of  mankind  could  behave  worse  than  they  do,  if  they  were 
sure  there  was  no  God?  We  see  them  ready  to  catch  at 
everv  unwarrantable  gratification  of  passion  or  appetite  ;  to 
put  every  fraudulent  or  wicked  scheme  in  execution,  from 
which  they  are  not  restrained  either  by  human  laws,  or  by 
fear  of  losing  the  esteem  and  confidence  of  their  fellow- 
creatures,  with  the  advantages  connected  with  it.  What 
eould  they  do  more,  if  there  was  no  God"?  Is  there,  tak- 
ing mankind  upon  an  average,  one  of  an  hundred  who 
hesitates  at  any  vicious  thought,  word  or  action,  from  the 
single  consideration  of  its  being  perhaps  displeasing  to 
God?  Is  there  one  of  an  hundred  who  habitually  regulates 
his  thoughts,  words,  and  actions,  by  the  standard  of  the 
Divine  Will,  and  would  rather  lose  the  favour  and  appro- 
bation of  all  the  rrlen  on  earth,  and  all  the  angels  of  heaven, 
than  his  Maker's  alone  ?  How  seldom  do  we  meet  with  an 
instance  of  a  person,  who  will  not  truckle  and  temporize, 
commute  and  compound  with  conscience,  or  even  stifle 
its  remonstrances  to  gain  the  favour  of  the  great?  Whereas, 
if  men  acted  upon  the  principle  of  a  rational  belief  of  a 
God,  they  would  rather  make  a  point  of  giving  up  all 
human  favour,  to  make  sure  of  keeping  strictly  to  their 
duty ;  they  would  take  care  always  to  be  on  the  safe  side, 
to  be  scrupulously  exact,  rather  than  too  free,  in  their 
lives  and  conversations ;  they  would  labour,  if  possible, 
to  do  more  than  the  exact  duty  of  their  stations ;  and  to 
avoid  even  the  least  appearance  of  evil ;  as  they  who  would 
make  their  court  to  a  prince,  do  not  grudge  any  extraor- 
dinary service,  attendance,  or  expence  for  him ;  are  cau- 
tious of  so  much  as  seeming  to  look  toward  what  may  be 
disagreeable  to  his  humour  or  inclination,  or  in  the  least 
favouring,  or  seeming  to  favour,  those  whom  he  does  not 
approve.  Did  men  in  any  rational  and  consistent  manner 
believe  the  existence  of  a  God,  or  think  of  him  as  the 

2  Y 


554  OF  VIRTUE. 

Governor  and  Judge  of  the  world,  under  whose  immediate 
inspection  we  stand  at  all  moments,  we  should  see  their 
conduct  corrected  and  regulated  by  that  constant  awe  and 
fear,  which  becomes  dependent,  accountable  beings,  whose 
minds  are  duly  impressed  with  a  sense  of  their  present  c©n- 
dition  and  future  expectations.  Their  belief  would  be  prac- 
tical as  well  as  speculative.  It  would  affect  their  hearts,  as 
well  as  impress  their  understandings. 

How  some  men  contrive  to  satisfy  their  own  minds  upon 
the  subject  of  their  duty  to  God,  is  inconceivable.  One 
would  imagine  it  impossible  for  a  being,  at  all  capable  of 
thought,  to  bring  himself  to  believe,  that  though  he  owes 
his  existence,  his  body,  his  soul,  his  reasoning  faculty, 
speech  and  all  its  powers,  corporeal  and  mental,  with  what- 
ever he  enjoys  now,  or  hopes  for  hereafter,  to  an  infinitely 
perfect  and  amiable  Being,  who  has  made  him  capable  of 
apprehending  his  perfections  and  his  absolute  power  over 
him ;  one  would  imagine  it  impossible,  I  say,  for  a  being 
endowed  with  a  reasoning  faculty  to  believe  all  this,  and 
yet  think  he  owes  no  duty  at  all,  no  gratitude,  love,  or  ser- 
vice, no  positive  adoration  or  praise  to  his  Creator,  Gov- 
ernor and  Judge.  Yet  is  there,  even  in  this  enlightened 
age,  and  this  land  of  knowledge,  a  person  among  an  hund- 
red who  makes  conscience  of  regularly  and  habitually  per- 
forming, in  a  rational  and  devout  manner,  the  positive 
duties  of  meditation  upon  the  Divine  perfections,  in  order 
to  raise  his  mind  to  an  imitation  of  them;  of  addressing 
God  by  prayer  for  the  supply  of  all  his  wants ;  or  of  prais- 
ing him  for  the  bounties  received  ?  on  the  contrary, 
is  there  not  too  much  reason  to  conclude,  that  by  far 
the  greatest  part  of  mankind  have  not  God  in  all  their 
thoughts  ;  or  if  they  have,  the  thought  of  him  produces 
no  visible  effect  ?  They  attend  the  public  worship  indeed 
from  a  sense  of  decency.  But  it  is  plain,  from  the  gen- 
eral levity  of  behaviour,  that  their  hearts  are  not  in  it. 
And  as  for  worshipping  God  daily  in  their  houses,  with 
their  families,  or  by  themselves  in  ther  closets,  they  see 
no  necessity  for  it,  and  conclude,  that  whoever  lives  soberly 
and  is  good-natured,  though  he  habitually  neglects  the 
whole  third  part  of  his  duty,  is  likely  to  meet  with  the  di- 
vine approbation,  and  to  be  happy  at  last. 

It  is  proved  above,  that  the  Author  of  all  things  must 


©F  VIRTUE.  355 

be  infinite  in  his  essence,  and  in  all  possible  perfections,  as 
wisdom,  power,  goodness,  and  rectitude.  If  so,  it  is  evi- 
dent, not  only  that  he  is  the  proper  object  of  the  admira- 
tion, love,  gratitude,  and  every  other  noble  affection,  of 
the  minds  of  such  low  creatures  as  mankind,  who  are 
probably  the  meanest  of  all  rational  beings ;  but  that  it  is 
the  glory  of  the  highest  archangel  in  heaven  to  adore  infin- 
ite Perfection ;  nay,  that  the  whole  of  the  reverence,  love, 
and  praise  of  any  conceivable  number  of  created  beings, 
paid  by  them  through  all  eternity,  must  fall  infinitely  short 
of  what  is  justly  his  due  ;  because  the  whole  of  the  trib- 
ute of  honour  and  sendee,  which  all  created  beings  can 
pay,  will  be  finite  ;  whereas  the  Divine  Perfections  are  in- 
finite :  Now  every  finite  is  infinitely  deficient,  when  com- 
pared with  what  is  infinite. 

To  be  more  particular;  the  consideration  of  the  Di- 
vine Immensity,  or  Omnipresence,  ought  to  strike  every 
thinking  mind  with  the  most  profound  awe  and  venera- 
tion, which  ought  to  dwell  upon  it  constantly  and  habitu- 
ally, of  its  being  at  all  times  surrounded  with  the  Divinity 
which  pervades  all  matter,  and  is  the  Spirit  within  every 
spirit,  seeing,  or  rather  intimately  feeling,  every  motion  of 
every  mind  in  the  universe.  Whoever  has  just  and  hab- 
itual impressions  of  the  Divine  Omnipresence,  will  no 
more  presume  to  do  any  thing  amiss  or  even  to  think 
a  bad  thought,  than  a  considerate  person  will  dare  to  be- 
have rudely  in  the  royal  presence.  A  thinking  mind  con- 
siders itself  as  at  all  times,  by  day  and  by  night,  in  public 
and  in  private,  abroad  and  at  home,  in  the  immediate  and 
intimate  presence  of  the  great  King  of  the  World,  whose 
boundless  palace  is  the  whole  universe.  It  will  therefore 
be  continually  and  habitually  on  its  guard ;  and,  as  one 
who  appears  before  an  illustrious  character,  whose  favour 
he  greatly  values,  will  be  above  all  things  fearful  of  mis- 
behaving ;  so  will  the  considerate  mind  dread  the  danger 
of  losing  the  approbation  of  that  ever-present  Judge,  upon 
whom  his  fate  depends,  infinitely  more  than  pain,  or  pov- 
erty, or  shame,  or  death,  and  will  cheerfully  expose  him- 
self to  any  or  all  of  them,  rather  than  act  an  unbecoming 
part  before  that  Eye,  which  is  not  to  be  deceived.  He, 
who  thinks  how  vice,  or  even  frailty,  must  appear  before 
that  Being,  whose  very  nature  is  rectitude  in  perfection, 


350*  OF  VIRTUE. 

and  who  knows  not  the  least  shadow  of  error,  or  deviation  ; 
can  he  think  of  voluntarily  departing  from  the  eternal  rule 
oi  right,  or  allowing  himself  in  any  practice,  which  must 
offend  Infinite  Purity  ? 

The  consideration  of  the  eternity  or  perpetual  existence 
hereafter,  of  the  Divinity,  together  with  that  of  the  neces- 
s  :y  immutability  of  his  nature,  suggests  to  the  pious  and 
well-disposed  mind,  the  comfortable  prospect,  that  after 
all  the  changes  and  revolutions  which  may  happen  to  it, 
to  the  kingdoms,  and  empires  of  this  world,  and  to  the 
world  itself;  after  all  the  visible  objects,  which  now  are, 
have  performed  their  courses,  and  are  vanished,  or  renew- 
ed; after  a  period  of  duration  long  enough  to  obliterate 
from  all  human  memory  the  idea  of  a  sun,  and  stars,  and 
earth ;  still  he,  who  is  now  Governor  of  the  Universe, 
will  continue  to  fill  the  Supreme  Throne,  and  to  rule  with 
boundless  and  uncontroled  sway  over  his  infinite  domin- 
ions; and  consequently,  that  whratver  is  so  wise  as  to 
strive  above  all  things  to  srain  his  favour,  may  depend  up- 
on being  always  secure  of  the  enjoyment  of  the  happiness 
assigned  him  by  the  general  Judge,  and  that  no  change  in 
the  affairs  even  of  the  whole  universe,  will  ever  remove 
him  from  that  station  which  has  been  appointed  him.  For 
the  Universal  Governor  will  raise  no  one  to  happiness 
hereafter,  but  such  as  he  finds  qualified  for  it.  Nor  will 
the  time  ever  come,  when  it  will  not  be  in  his  power  to 
keep  those  beings  happy,  which  he  has  once  made  so ; 
for  his  dominion  is  an  everlasting  dominion,  and  of  his 
kingdom  there  will  never  be  an  end.  Nor  will  the  time 
ever  come,  when  he  will  change  his  purpose  or  scheme  of 
government ;  or,  like  a  weak,  earthly  prince,  degrade  his  fa- 
vourites, or  reverse  his  laws,  or  indulge  uncertain  caprice. 

This  shows  the  Supreme  Being  to  be  a  very  proper  ob- 
ject of  the  trust  of  all  his  creatures.  Had  I  the  favour  of 
all  the  crowned  heads  in  the  world,  it  is  evident,  that  in  so 
short  a  time  as  a  century  hence,  it  must  be  of  no  manner o£ 
value  to  me.  Death  will,  in  all  probability,  before  that 
short  period  be  elapsed,  remove  every  one  of  them,  and 
myself  too,  into  a  state,  in  which  no  favour  will  be  of  any 
avail,  but  that  of  the  King  of  Kings,  upon  whom  they  must 
be  as  much  dependent  as  I.  But  to  trust  to  Him  who  is 
eternal  in  his  nature,  and  unchangeable  in  his  purpose,  and 


OF  VIRTUE.  357 

who  has  it  in  his  power  to  make  and  keep  his  favourites 
eternally  happy,  is  building  upon  a  sure  foundation. 

Here  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  it  is  only  a  course  of 
obedience  that  we  have  any  pretence  to  trust  in  God. 
All  confidence  in  him,  that  is  not  founded  in  well-doing, 
is  vain  and  presumptuous,  and  will  in  the  end  be  disap- 
pointed.  As  the  king  on  the  throne  has  power  to  raise 
any  person,  whom  he  may  judge  worthy  of  honour,  at  the 
same  time  that  it  is  vain  and  presumptuous  to  think  of  trust- 
ing to  him  in  any  other  way,  than  such  as  may  be  likely  to 
gain  his  favour;  so,  though  the  Supreme  King  of  the 
Universe  has  power  to  raise  any  of  his  creatures  to  incon- 
ceivable happiness,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  he  will  be- 
stow his  favour  upon  any,  but  such  as  shall  be  found  worthy 
of  it.  And  his  infinite  wisdom  will  effectually  prevent  his 
being  mistaken  in  his  judgment  of  characters  ;  and  rend- 
ers it  impossibe  that  he  should  bestow  his  approbation 
amiss.  So  that  there  is  no  ground  of  confidence  for  any, 
but  those  who  make  it  their  sincere  and  diligent  endeavour 
to  gain  the  Divine  favour  in  the  way  which  he  has  ap- 
pointed. 

It  is  impossible  to  survey,  with  a  discerning  eye,  the 
world  which  we  inhabit,  without  reading  the  illustrious 
characters  of  power,  wisdom  and  goodness,  which  the 
Divine  hand  has  inscribed  upon  it ;  each  of  which  attri- 
butes suggests  to  us  a  set  of  duties,  and  therefore  deserves 
our  particular  consideration. 

To  create,  or  bring  into  existence,  one  particle  of  mat- 
ter, which  before  was  nothing,  who  can  say  what  power  is 
requisite  ?  The  difference  between  nothing  and  a  real  ex- 
istence is  strictly  and  properly  infinite.  Which  seems  to 
imply  an  infinite  difficulty  to  be  surmounted,  before  o  :e 
particle  of  matter  can  be  produced.  And  no  power,  in- 
ferior to  infinite,  is  equal  to  an  infinite  difficulty.  Be  that 
as  it  will,  it  is  unquestionable,  that  to  produce  great  works, 
requires  proportionable  power.  And  if  the  works  of  na- 
ture are  not  great,  there  is  no  greatness  conceivable.  The 
calling  forth  a  world  into  being,  had  it  been  from  its  cre- 
ation to  remain  for  ever  at  rest,  had  been  an  effect  worthy 
of  Divine  power.  But  to  give  a  system  so  huge  and  un- 
wieldy, any  degree  of  motion,  much  more  to  give  a  mo- 
tion irfconceivablv  swift,  to  masses  of  matter  inconceivably 


358  OT  VIRTUE. 

bulky ;  to  accommodate  velocity  to  what  is  the  most  un- 
fit for  being  moved  with  velocity  ;  to  whirl  a  whole  earth, 
a  globe  of  twenty-five  thousand  miles  round,  with  all  its 
mountains  and  oceans,  at  the  rate  of  near  sixty  thousand 
miles  an  hour ;  to  carry  on  such  an  amazing  motion  for 
many  thousands  of  years;  to  keep  six  such  bodies  in  contin- 
ual motion,  in  different  planes,  and  with  different  velocities, 
round  a  common  centre,  at  the  same  time  that  ten  others 
are  revolving  round  them,  and  going  along  with  them  ; 
what  amazing  power  is  requisite  to  produce  such  effects ! 
How  do  we  admire  the  effects  produced  by  a  combina- 
tion of  mechanic  powers  (which  also  act  by  Divine 
Power,  or  Laws  of  Nature)  in  raising  weights,  and  over- 
coming the  vis  inertia  of  matter  ?  What  should  we  think 
of  a  machine,  constructed  by  human  hands,  by  which  St. 
Paul's  church  or  a  little  hill,  should  be  transported  half  a 
mite  from  its  place,  with  ever  so  slow  a  motion  ?  But  the 
greatest  mountain  is  no  more  in  comparison  with  the  whole 
earth,  than  a  grain  of  sand  to  a  mountain.  Yet  the  whole 
cumbrous  mass  of  earth  has  been  whirled  round  the  sun, 
for  these  five  thousand  years  and  upwards,  with  a  rapidity, 
frightful  to  think  of,  and  for  any  thing  we  know,  with  un- 
diminished force.  And  the  comet  in  J 680-81,  must, 
according  to  the  Newtonian  principles,  have  moved  in  its 
perihelion,  or  nearest  approach  to  the  sun,  at  the  rate  of 
above  a  million  of  miles  in  an  hour;  which  was  a  flight 
near  twenty  times  more  rapid  than  that  of  the  earth  in  its 
annual  course !  Now  the  swiftest  speed  of  a  horse,  that 
ever  has  been  known,  was  at  the  rate  of  one  mile  in  one 
minute,  which  continued,  would  give  sixty  miles  in  an 
hour,  instead  of  more  than  a  million,  the  comet's  motion. 
The  swiftest  horse,  at  full  speed,  may  move  twenty  feet  in 
the  time  that  one  can  pronounce  one,  or  sixty  feet,  while 
one  can  say  one,  two,  three.  But  to  form  some  concep- 
tion of  the  motion  of  the  Newtonian  comet,  let  the  reader 
suppose  himself  placed  upon  such  an  eminence  as  will 
v:\\x  him  a  prospect  of  fifty  miles  on  each  hand  ;  the  rapid- 
ity of  that  tremendous  body  in  the  swiftest  part  of  its 
course,  was  such  that  in  the  time  of  pronouncing  one  syl- 
lable, or  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  it  would  fly  across  that 
space  of  one  hundred  miles,  while  the  swiftest  horse  would 
have  proceeded  twenty  feet.     Yet  those  enormous  bodies 


OF  VIRTUE.  359 

are  by  the  parallax  they  give,  supposed  to  be  nearly  of  the 
magnitude  of  our  globe  of  earth  and  ocean,  and  some  of 
them  perhaps  larger. 

Now  their  is  nothing  more  evident,  than  that  in  pro- 
portion to  the  quantity  of  matter  to  be  moved,  and  the 
velocity  with  which  it  is  to  be  moved,  such  must  be  the 
moving  force.  Let  the  reader,  therefore,  if  he  has  any 
talent  in  calculation,  try  to  estimate  the  force  required  to 
give  such  a  furious  rapidity  to  bodies  of  such  stupendous 
magnitude  ;  if  he  has  any  imagination,  let  him  fill  it  with 
the  sublime  idea  of  Omnipotence ;  and  if  he  has  either 
reason  or  religion,  let  him  prostrate  his  soul,  and  adore 
such  tremendous  and  irresistible  power. 

Nor  is  less  command  of  matter  required  to  produce  the 
astonishing  appearances  in  the  minute,  than  in  the  great 
world ;  to  carry  on  the  various  secretions,  circulations, 
and  transmutations  in  vegetation,  and  the  production, 
growth,  and  life  of  animals ;  especially  when  the  degree  of 
minuteness  is  such,as  it  must  be  in  an  animalcule,  of  which 
millions  would  only  equal  the  bulk  of  a  grain  of  sand. 
What  power  is  required  to  wing  the  rapid  light  from  its 
fountain,  the  sun,  to  us  in  seven  or  eight  minutes,  with 
such  swiftness,  that  in  the  instant  of  pronouncing  the  word 
light,  sixty  thousand  miles  are  passed  through  ! 

To  a  being  possessed  of  rightful  power  over  us,  the 
proper  duty  is  evidentally  fear,  or  awe ;  and  the  conse- 
quences of  that  is  obedience.  If  we  consider  the  Supreme 
Being  as  possessed  of  infinite  or  boundless  power  over 
all  his  creatures,  we  must  see  the  indispensable  necessity 
of  the  most  profound  submission  to  him,  both  in  our  dis- 
positions and  practices.  If  we  consider  him  as  our  Cre- 
ator, we  must  be  convinced  that  he  has  an  absolute  right  to 
us  and  to  all  our  services.  If  we  think  of  him  as  irresist- 
ible, rebellion  against  him  is  a  degree  of  madness  beyond 
all  computation.  For  what  lasting  and  inconceivably  dread- 
ful  punishments  may  not  such  power  inflict  upon  those  per- 
verse and  impenitent  beings,  who  become  the  objects  of 
his  vengeance  ?  And  what  chance  can  the  worms  of  the 
earth  have  to  deliver  themselves  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
Almighty  ? 

There  is  no  inconsistency  between  the  fear  we  owe  to 
God,  and  the  duty  of  love.     On  the  contrary,  love  ever 


560  OF  VIRTUE. 

implies  a  fear  to  offend  the  person  beloved.  As  on  one 
hand,  nothing  is  so  perfectly  amiable  as  infinite  perfection  ; 
so  neither  is  there  any  so  proper  object  of  fear,  as  he  who 
is  infinitely  great  and  awful.  And  there  is  a  wide  differ- 
ence between  the  slavish  fear,  which  a  criminal  has  for 
his  judge,  or  that  which  a  miserable  subject  has  for  a 
tyrant,  and  that  of  a  son  for  an  affectionate  father.  Of  this 
last  kind  is  the  reverence  with  which  we  ought  to  think  of 
our  Creator.  Only  we  must  take  the  utmost  care  not  to 
entertain  any  notion  of  God,  as  of  one  capable  of  an\  v  eak- 
ness  resembling  that  of  earthly  parents.  For  it  is  certain, 
that  the  Judge  of  the  world,  whose  rectitude  and  justice 
are  absolutely  perfect  and  inviolable,  will  not,  cannot,  be 
mislead,  by  fondness  for  his  own  creatures,  to  make  the 
obdurately  wicked  happy:  For,  though  he  loves  his  crea- 
tures, he  loves  justice  more,  and  will  not  sacrifice  his  own 
eternal  and  immutable  attribute  for  the  sake  of  any  num- 
ber of  worthless  rebellious  beings  whatever. 

As  to  the  Divine  Wisdom  appearing  in  the  works  of 
creation,  we  are  peculiarly  at  a  loss  to  conceive  properly  of 
it.  For  we  come  into  a  world  ready  finished,  and  fit  to  be 
inhabited  ;  and  therefore  have  no  conception  of  the  im- 
mense stretch  of  thought,  the  amazing  depth  of  inven- 
tion (if  we  may  so  speak)  that  was  necessary  to  plan  an 
universe.  Let  any  man  imagine  the  state  of  things  before 
there  was  any  created  being,  if  ever  such  a  time  was ; 
when  there  was  no  plan,  no  model,  or  pattern  to  proceed 
upon  ;  when  the  very  idea  of  an  universe,  as  wrell  as  the 
particular  plan  and  execution  of  it,  was  to  be  drawn,  so  to 
speak,  out  of  the  Divine  Imagination.  Let  the  reader 
suppose  himself  to  have  been  first  produced,  and  to  have 
had  it  revealed  to  him  by  his  Creator,  that  an  universe 
was  to  be  created.  An  universe  !  What  idea  could  he 
have  formed  of  an  universe  ?  Had  he  been  consulted  upon 
the  plan  of  it,  which  part  would  he  have  begun  at  ?  Before 
light  existed,  could  he  have  conceived  the  idea  of  light? 
Ik  'ore  there  was  either  sun,  stars,  or  earth,  could  he 
have  formed  any  conception  of  a  sun,  stars,  or  earth  ? 
Could  he  have  contrived  light  for  the  eye,  or  the  eye  for 
light  ?  Could  he  have  suited  a  world  to  its  inhabitants,  or 
inhabitants  to  a  world  ?  Could  he  have  fitted  bodies  to 
minds,  or  minds  to  bodies  ? 


OF  VIRTUE.  361 

If  the  reader  should  not  clearly  enough  see  the  difficulty 
of  inventing  and  planning  an  universe  from  nothing,  nor 
the  wondrous  foresight  and  comprehensive  wisdom,  that 
•was  necessary  for  fitting  an  almost  infinite  number  of  things 
to  one  another,  in  such  a  manner,  that  every  particular 
should  answer  its  particular  end,  and  fill  its  particular 
place  at  the  same  time  that  it  should  contribute  to  pro- 
mote various  other  designs;  if  the  depth  of  Wisdom, 
which  has  produced  all  this,  does  not  sufficiently  appear 
to  the  reader,  let  him  try  to  form  a  plan  of  a  new  world, 
quite  .different  from  all  that  he  knows  of  in  the  present 
universe,  in  which  none  of  our  elements,  nor  light,  nor 
animal  life,  nor  any  of  the  five  senses,  nor  respiration,  nor 
vegetation  shall  have  any  place-  And  when  he  has  used 
•his  utmost  efforts,  and  put  his  invention  upon  the  utmost 
stretch,  and  finds  that  he  cannot  form  a  shadow  of  one 
single  idea,  of  which  the  original  is  not  drawn  from  na- 
ture ;  then  let  him  confess  his  own  weakness,  and  adore 
that  boundless  Wisdom,  which  has  produced,  out  of  its 
own  infinite  fertility  of  invention,  enough  to  emplo}',  and 
to  confound  the  utmost  human  sagacity. 

Have  not  the  most  acute  penetration,  and  indefatigable 
industry  of  the  wise  and  learned  of  all  ages,  been  employ- 
ed (and  how  could  they  more  worthily)  in  searching  out 
the  wonderful  works  of  the  Almighty  Maker  of  the  uni- 
verse ?  and  have  they  yet  found  out  one  single  article  to 
the  bottom  ?  Can  all  the  philosophers  of  modern  times, 
who  have  added  to  the  observations  of  the  ancients,  the 
discoveries  made  by  their  own  industry  and  sagacity  ;  can 
the)-  give  a  satisfying  account  of  the  machinery  of  the 
body  of  a  fly,  or  a  worm  ?  Can  they  tell  what  makes  two 
particles  of  matter  cohere  ?  Can  they  tell  what  the  sub- 
stance of  a  particle  of  matter  is  ?  Is  the  science  of  physi- 
ology, delightful  and  noble  as  it  is,  and  worthy  of  the 
study  of  angels,  is  it  carried  any  farther  than  a  uet  of  obser- 
vations, wonderful  indeed  and  striking,  but  as  to  real  cau- 
ses, and  internal  natures,  altogether  in  the  dark  ?  How  do 
we  admire,  and  justly,  the  exalted  genius  of  our  seemingly 
inspired  philosopher,  for  going  a  pitch  beyond  the  sagacity 
of  all  mankind  in  discovering  the  laws,  by  which  the  vast 
machine  of  the  world  is  governed?  Yet  he  modestly  owns 
the  cause  of  attraction  and  gravitation  to  lie  too  deep  for 

2  Z 


J62  OF  VIRTUE. 

his  penetration.  How  do  we  stand  astonished  at  the  acute - 
hesa  of  a  mind,  which  could  pursue  calculations  to  a  de- 
gree  of  subtilty  beyond  the  reach  of  by  far  the  greatest 
part  of  mankind  to  follow  him  in,  even  after  he  has  shown 
the  way  ?  What  then  ought  we  think  of  that  Wisdom, 
which  in  its  meanest  productions  baffles  the  deepest  pene- 
tration of  a  capacity,  whose  acutemss  baffles  the  general 
understanding  of  mankind  ? 

From  the  consideration  of  the  wisdom  we  trace  in  the 
natural  world,  it  is  manifest,  past  all  doubt,  that  the  moral 
system  (for  the  sake  of  which  that  of  nature  was  brought 
into  existence)  is  under  the  same  conduct,  and  will  here- 
after  appear  to  be  a  scheme  altogether  worthy  of  God. 
For  either  both,  or  neither,  must  be  the  contrivance  of  Di- 
vine Wisdom.  We  cannot  conceive  of  God  as  partly, 
or  by  halves,  but  wholly,  the  Creator  and  Governor  of  all 
beings,  natural  and  moral.  And  if  so,  we  may  be  assured, 
that,  as  in  the  system  of  nature,  final  causes  are  fitted  to 
produce  their  effects,  and  every  part  of  the  machine  of  the 
world  is  properly  adjusted  to  its  place  and  purpose  ;  so  in 
the  moral,  every  rational  being  will  be  determined  to  the 
state  and  place  he  is  found  fit  for  ;  the  good  to  happiness, 
and  the  wicked  to  punishment  ;  the  highly  elevated  and 
purified  mind  to  a  high  and  eminent  station,  and  the  cor- 
rupt and  sordid  to  shame  and  misery  ;  the  soul,  which 
has  perfected  its  faculties,  and  refined  its  virtues,  by  imi- 
tation of  the  Divine  Perfections,  to  the  conversation  of 
angels  and  the  beatific  vision  of  God,  and  that  which  has 
by  vice  debauched  and  sunk  itself  below  the  brutes,  to 
the  place  of  demons  and  fallen  spirits.  And  all  this  may 
probably  proceed  as  much  according  to  the  original  con- 
stitution of  things,  as  a  cause  produces  its  effect  in  the 
natural  world  ;  as  fire  produces  the  dissipation  of  the  parts 
of  combustible  substances;  as  nourishment  tends  to  the 
support  of  riimal  life  ;  and  as  matter  tends  to  decay.  So 
that  the  only  thing  which  hinders  a  wicked  embodied 
mind  from  being  now  in  torments,  may  be,  its  being  still 
embodied,  and  not  yet  let  out  into  the  world  of  spirits, 
where  a  new  and  dreadful  scene  will  of  course  immedi- 
ately open  upon  it,  as  soon  as  it  comes  to  be  divested  of 
the  earthly  vehicle,  which  now  conceals  those  invisible 
horrors,  and  protects  it  from  its  future  tormentors.     And 


OF  VIRTUE.  363 

in  the  same  manner,  the  virtuous  and  exalted  mind  would 
be  now  in  a  state  of  happiness,  if  it  were  not  prevented 
from  the  commerce  of  blessed  spirits,  and  the  view  of  the 
invisible  world,  by  the  impenetrable  veil  of  flesh  which 
surrounds  it.  But  this  supposition  does  not  at  all  affect 
the  doctrine  of  positive  rewards  and  punishments,  nor  of 
separate  places  appointed  for  receiving  the  good,  and  the 
wicked,  after  the  final  judgment. 

If  we  find  the  mere  material  system  of  nature  to  be 
wrought  by  a  degree  of  wisdom,  altogether  beyond  our 
comprehension,  it  would  be  madness  to  suppose  that  we 
shall  ever  have  sagacity  enough  to  baffle  the  Divine  Scheme 
in  the  moral  government  of  the  world ;  that  we  shall  be 
able  to  contrive  any  way  of  escaping  from  the  punishment 
we  may  deserve.  No.  His  counsel  will  stand  ;  and  he 
will  do  all  his  pleasure  It  will  not  be  in  our  power  to 
deceive  his  penetration,  to  get  out  of  hifi  reach,  or  to  de- 
fend ourselves  against  his  justice. 

To  frame  some  idea  of  the  Divine  Goodness  in  the  cre- 
ation of  the  world,  it  will  be  necessary  to  go  back  in  im- 
agination to  the  ages  which  preceded  all  creation,  if  such 
there  were,  or,  how  ever,  to  those,  which  were  prior  to 
the  production  of  our  world.  Let  us  then  view  the  awful 
Majesty  of  heaven,  surrounded  with  ineffable  glory,  and 
enthroned  in  absolute  perfection,  beyond  conception  bless- 
ed in  the  consciousness  of  unbounded  plenitude.  What 
motive  could  influence  him,  who  already  enjoyed  complete 
perfection  and  happiness,  to  call  unsubstantial  nothing  into 
existence  ?  What  could  be  the  views  of  infinite  Wisdom 
in  speaking  a  world  into  being?  No  prospect  of  any  addi- 
tion to  his  own  perfection  or  happiness:  for  that  which 
was  already  infinite,  what  addition  could  it  receive?  Could 
the  adorable  Creator  propose  to  be  more  than  infinitely 
perfect  and  happy  ?  it  is  evident,  his  sole  view  must  have 
betn  to  the  happiness  of  the  creatures  he  was  to  produce. 
His  own  was  ever,  and  ever  must  be,  unbounded,  undi- 
minished, and  unchanged.  The  addition  of  happiness 
therefore,  which  was  to  be  produced,  was  to  be  bestowed 
upon  those  who  were  not  yet  created.  Does  then  Divine 
Goodness  extend  to  that  which  has  no  existence  ?  Does 
the  universal  Parent  think  of  what  is  not?  We,  poor, 
narrow  souls  1  think  it  a  mighty  stretch  of  benevolence,  if 


304,  OF  VIRTUE. 

We  can  bring  ourselves  to  regard  with  some  measure  _ 
affection  those  of  our  fellow-creatures,  who  stand  most 
nearly  connected  with  us;  in  loving  whom,  we  do  little 
more  than  love  ourselves,  or  love  our  friends  and  relations 
for  our  own  sakes.     If  there  be  a  mind  yet  more  generous, 
it  may  take  in  its  country,  or  the  human  species,     A  ben- 
evolence still  more  extensive  may  perhaps  enlarge  itself  so 
wide,  as  to  comprehend  within  its  generous  embrace  the 
various  orders  of  being  which  form  the  universal  scale; 
descending  from  the  naming  seraph  to  the  humble  reptile. 
Nor  indeed  can  any  mind  sincerely  love  the  Almighty  Ma- 
ker, and  hate,  or  despise  any  of  the  works  of  the  same 
hand,  which  formed  itself.     But  the  Divine  Benevolence 
is  as  far  beyond  all  this,  as  infinitude  is  larger  than  any 
limited  space.     How  peevish,  and  apt  to  take  offence  at 
every  trifling  injury,  are  narrow  -hearted  mortals !  Yet  what 
are  the  insults,  our  feMow- worms- can  offer  us,  when  com- 
pared with  the  atrociousness  of  an  offence  committed  by 
the  dust  of  the  earth  against  the  infinite  Majesty  of  the 
universe  ?  Though  the  Omniscient  Creator  from  eternity 
foresaw,  that  the  creatures  he  was  to  form,  would  prove 
rebellious  and  disobedient ;  that  they  would  violate  all  his 
wise  and  sacred  laws,  and  insult  his  sovereign  honour,  as 
Governor  of  the  world ;  has  he  grudged  to  give  them  exist- 
ence ;  to  bestow  upon  them  a  temporary  happiness;  to  make 
his  sun  shine,  and  his  rain  descend  on  all  promiscuously; 
and  put  it  in  the  power  of  all  to  attain  perfection,  happi- 
ness and  glory  ?  What  neglect  of  every  duty  and  obliga- 
tion ;  how  many  acts  of  fraud,  oppression,  and  cruelty ; 
how  many  horrid  execrations,  and  infernal  blasphemies, 
does  every  day  record  against  the  daring  race  of  men  around 
the  world?  Yet  seldom  does  the  Divine  vengeance  break 
loose  upon  the  impious  offenders.     Our  wicked  species, 
if  there  were  no  other  lawless  order  of  creatures  in  the  uni- 
verse, are  ever  offending.     And  yet  the  thunder  seldom 
Strikes  the  guilty  dead.     Earthquakes  and  inundations  arc- 
rarely  let  loose.     A  few  cities  purged  by  fire,  and  a  world 
cleansed  by  a  deluge  once  in  six  thousand  years,  serve  just 
to  put  unthinking  mortals  in  remembrance  that  there  is  a 
power  above  them.     So  that  every  moment  of  the  dura- 
tion of  _  the  wor!d  is  an  universal  witness  declaring  to  all 
the  nations  of  the  earth,  in  a  language  distinctly  intelfigi- 


OF  VIRTUE.  365 

ble  to  all,  the  goodness  of  the  Maker  and  Governor  of  the 
universe.  At  the  same  time  that  the  prince  of  angels  re- 
ceives from  the  immediate  communications  of  the  Divine 
Goodness,  beatitude  past  utterance,  the  humble  peasant 
rejoices  in  his  bounty,  with  which  the  fields  are  enriched, 
and  the  fair  face  of  nature  is  adorned.  Even  the  lonely 
savage  in  the  wilderness,  the  sordid  reptile  in  the  dust,  and 
the  scaly  nations,  which  people  the  unfathomable  deep,  all 
taste  of  the  bounty,  and  are  supported  by  the  unlimited 
goodness  of  the  Universal  Parent,  who  opens  his  unwear- 
ied hand  liberally,  and  satisfies  every  living  soul. 

If  human  understanding  apprehends  any  thing  accord- 
ing to  truth  and  right,  the  benevolent  character  is  the  proper 
object  of  the  love  of  every  rational  mind,  as  the  contrary- 
is  the  natural  object  of  aversion.  If  every  human,  or  other 
finite  mind,  is  more  or  less  amiable,  according  as  it  has 
more  or  less  of  this  excellent  disposition ;  it  is  evident, 
that  Infinite  Goodness  is  infinitely  amiable.  Who  is  he, 
that  pretends  to  think  and  reason,  and  has  no  pleasure  in 
contemplating  the  Divine  Goodness?  Who  can  reflect  upon 
such  goodness,  and  not  admire  it  ?  Who  can  admire  and 
not  endeavour  to  imitate  it  ?  Who  can  imitate  it,  and 
not  be  an  universal  blessing  ?  Who  can  be  an  universal 
blessing,  and  not  be  happy  ? 

If  the  Divine  Goodness  be  evidently  disinterested,  it 
being  impossible  that  the  smallest  happiness  should,  from 
any  enjoyed  by  the  creatures,  be  added  to  that  of  the  Cre- 
ator, which  is  necessarily  infinite ;  it  is  plain,  what  makes 
real  and  perfect  goodness  of  disposition  in  any  mind, 
viz.  A  propensity  to  contribute  to  the  happiness  of  others, 
without  any  view  to  self-interest.  In  so  far  as  a  view  to 
ones'  own  happiness  is  the  motive  to  his  exerting  him- 
self for  the  good  of  his  fellow- creatures,  in  so  far  it  has 
less  of  the  truly  worthy  and  commendable  in  it.  For  self- 
love,  being  merely  instinctive,  has  nothing  praise- worthy. 
And  to  promote  the  happiness  of  others  for  the  sake  of 
adding  to  one's  own,  is  what  the  most  selfish  and  sordid 
character  is.  capable  of.  To  be  truly  benevolent,  is  to 
imitate  the  Deity  ;  to  do  good  for  the  sake  of  doing  good; 
to  be  bountiful  from  the  disposition  of  the  mind,  from 
universal  love  and  kindness,  from  rational  considerations 


566  OF  VIRTUE. 

of  the  intrinsic  excellence  of  that  godlike  disposition;  not 
tronvmere  weak  and  effeminate  softness  of  nature. 

It  is  strange,  that  ever  it  should  have  been  questioned 
whether  it  is  reasonable  for  dependent  creatures  to  address 
themselves  to  their  Infinite  Creator  for  the  supplv  of  their 
wants.  Yet  books  have  been  written  to  show  the  unrea- 
sonableness of  prayer.  "The  Supreme  Being,"  says  an 
objector,  «  knows  whether  I  am  worthy  to  receive  favours 
at  his  hand,  and  what  I  most  need,  before  1  apply  to  him 
"  If  I  am  worthy,  he  will  bestow,  whether  I  ask  or  not :  If 
not,  he  will  not  be  prevailed  on  by  any  solicitation  to 
bestow  upon  an  unworthy  object.  If  I  ask  what  is  unfit 
lor  me,  he  is  too  wise  and  good  to  grant  it;  and  if  I  ask 
what  is  fit,  I  gain  nothing:  for  he  would  have  bestowed  it 
upon  me  of  his  own  goodness,  without  my  asking." 

There  cannot  be  a  more  egregious  fallacy  thanW,  on 
which  this  objection  is  founded.  For  it  is  evident,  that,  it- 
it  be  rational  to  think  of  ourselves  as  beings  dependent 
upon  the  Supreme,  it  is  rational  for  us  to  express  our  de- 
pendence ;  if  it  be  reasonable  for  us  to  express  our  depen- 
dence on  our  Creator,  it  is  unjustifiable  in  us  to  neglect 
it ;  so  that  I  can  in  no  propriety  of  speech  be  said  to  be  a 
worthy  object  of  the  Divine  favour,  till  I  actually  address 
myself  to  him.  Again,  it  is  evident,  that  no  degree  of 
homage,  or  submission,  ought  to  be  wanting  from  depen- 
dent creatures  to  their  Creator.  But  the  service  of  both 
body  and  mind  is  a  greater  degree  of  homage,  than  that 
of  the  mind  alone.  So  that  till  I  yield  the  bodily  homage, 
as  well  as  that  of  the  mind,  mv  service  is  deficient,  which 
renders  me  an  unworthy  object  of  the  Divine  favour. 

It  is  likewise  remarkable,  that  many  of  the  more  rational 
and  pious  writers  on  this  subject,  have  laboured  to  repre- 
sent the  whole  rationale  of  the  duty  of  prayer  as  consist- 
ing in  the  advantage  which  is  thereby  to  accrue  to  the  wor- 
shipper by  improvement  in  piety  "and  goodness.  It  is 
true,  that  the  moral  effects  likely  to  be  produced  by  the 
constant  observance  of  this  most  important  duty,  are  of 
great  and  inestimable  consequence,  which  renders  it  a 
most  useful  instrument  for  those  noble  purposes.  Did 
men  habitually  observe  the  practice  of  addressing  them- 
selves to  their  Creator,  with  an  awful  sense  of  his"  infinite 
greatness  and  authority  over  them  ;  such  a  fixed  impres- 


OF  VIRTUE.  367 

sion  must  in  time  be  thereby  made  upon  their  minds,  as 
would  prove  a  restraint  from  vice,  at  all  times,  and  in  all 
cases,  equally  powerful.  Did  people  make  a  point  of 
applying  constantly  and  regularly  to  the  Giver  of  entry 
good  gift,  they  could  hardly  miss  entertaining  in  their 
minds  an  habitual  sense  of  their  absolute  dependence  upon 
him ;  of  gratitude  for  his  bounties  received  ;  and  of  study- 
ing obedience,  in  order  to  his  future  favour.  What  man 
could  be  so  hardened  as  to  go  on  daily  lamenting  and  con- 
fessing his  offences,  and  daily  repeating  them  ?  Who  could 
presumptuously  be  guilty  of  a  crime,  which  he  knew  he 
must  the  same  day  confess  to  his  all-seeing  Judge,  and 
implore  the  pardon  of  it?  He,  who  kept  up  his  constant 
intercourse  with  his  Creator,  must  find  himself  very  pow- 
erfully influenced  by  it,  and  improved  in  every  pious  and 
worthy  disposition.  But  besides  all  this,  it  is  evidently 
in  itself  a  reasonable  service  ;  and  is  to  be  considered  not 
only  as  a  noble  and  valuable  means  of  moral  improvement, 
but  as  a  positive  act  of  virtue ;  it  being  as  proper  virtue 
to  render  to  God  the  honour  and  worship  due  to  him,  as  to 
give  to  men  their  just  rights.  And  to  withhold  from  him 
what  he  has  the  most  unquestionable  title  to,  being  as 
much  an  injustice  (with  the  atrocious  addition  of  its  being 
committed  against  the  greatest  and  best  of  beings)  as  to 
withhold  from  a  fellow-creature  his  just  property.  There 
is  also  plainly  a  connexion  in  nature  and  reason,  between 
asking  and  receiving,  and  between  neglecting  to  ask  and 
not  receiving.  This  natural  connexion  makes  it  reason- 
able for  dependent  creatures  to  expect  to  obtain  their 
reasonable  requests ;  and  to  conclude,  that  what  they  do  not 
think  it  worth  while  to  ask  they  shall  not  receive.  If 
there  were  not  such  a  connexion  and  foundation  in  reason 
for  this  duty,  it  had  never  been  commanded  by  the  all- 
wise  Lawgiver  of  the  universe  ;  nor  come  to  be  univer- 
sally practised  by  the  wisest  and  best  of  mankind,  in  all 
ages  and  nations.  Nor  is  there  any  greater  difficulty  in  con- 
ceiving the  possibility  of  a  pre-established  scheme  in  the 
Divine  economy,  according  to  which  the  blessings  of 
Heaven,  whether  of  a  spiritual  or  temporal  nature,  should 
be  granted  to  those  who  should  ask,  and  be  found  fit  to 
receive  them,  than  in  anv  other  instance  of  Povidence,  or 


368  OF  VIRTUE. 

than  in  the  future  happiness  of  the  good  part  of  mankind 
and  not  of  the  wicked. 

If  the  Supreme  Being  be  One,  he  is  the  proper  object 
ot  the  adoration  of  all  reasonable  beings,  because,  having 
all  things  m  Irs  absolute  disposal,  without  possibility  of 
being  thwarted  or  controled  by  any  one,  if  we  can  gain 
his  good-will,  we  cannot  want  that  of  any  other.     If  He 
be  kind  and  good  in  the  most  disinterested  manner,  and 
to  the  highest  degree,  even  extending  his  bounty  to  the 
wicked  and  rebellious,  and  preserving  them  in  existence, 
who  make  no  use  of  their  existence  but  to  offend  Him  • 
it  is  reasonable  to  hope,  that  He  will  lend  a  propitious  ear 
to  the  humble  requests  of  the  virtuous  and  pious  part  of 
his  creatures.     If  he  has  all  things  in  his  power,  and  can 
bestow  without  measure,  gifts  both  spiritual  and  tempo- 
ral, without  diminishing  his  inexhaustible  riches,  to  ap- 
ply to  him  is  going  where  we  are  sure  we  shall  not  be 
disappointed  through  want  of  ability  to  supplv  us.     If  he 
is  every  where  present,  we  may  be  sure  of  "being  heard 
wherever  we  make  our  addresses  to  him.  If  he  is  within  our 
very  minds,  we  cannot  raise  a  thought  toward  him,  but  he 
must  perceive  it.     If  he  is  infinitely  wise,  he  knows  ex- 
actly what  is  fit  for  us,  and  will  grant  such  of  our  petitions 
as  may  be  proper  to  be  bestowed  upon  us,  and  withhold 
whatever  may  prove  hurtful,  though  we  have  asked  it. 
If  it  be  reasonable  to  suppose,  that  he  expects  all  his  think- 
ing creatures  to  apply  to  him,  we  may  do  it  with  this  com- 
fortable consideration,  to  encourage  us;  that  in  address- 
ing him,  we  are  doing  what  is  agreeable  to  his  nature  and 
will,  and  cannot  offend  him  but  by  our  manner  of  perform- 
ing it.      Were  I  to  have  an  audience  of  a  prince,  it  would 
give  me  great  encouragement  to  know  that  he  was  gra- 
ciously disposed  toward  me,  that  I  should  not  offend  him 
by  begging  his  favour  and  protection  ;  but  that,  on  the 
Contrary,  he  expected  I  should  petition  him,  and  would 
even  take  it  amiss  if  I  did  not;  that  he  had  it  fully  in  his 
pow  er,  as  well  as  in  his  inclination,  to  grant  me  the  great- 
est  favour  I  should  have  occasion  to  ask  him;  and  that  it 
was  his  peculiar  delight  to  oblige  and  make  his  subject 
happy.     There  are  lt\v  princes,  of  whom  most  of  these 
things  may  be  said?  and  none,  of  whom  all  may  be  affirm- 
ed.    And  yet  they  find,   to  their  no  small  trouble  and 


OF  VIRTUE.  369 

incumbrance,  that  for  the  few  inconsiderable,  perishing 
favours  they  have  in  their  power,  there  are  petitioners 
almost  innumerable.  Whilst  the  infinitely  Good  Giver 
of  all  things,  whose  disposition,  and  whose  power  to 
bestow  happiness  inconceivable,  are  equally  boundless,  is 
neglected  and  defrauded  of  that  homage  and  devotion,  to 
which  all  his  creatures  ought  to  be  drawn  by  a  sense  of 
their  own  absolute  dependance  upon  him;  of  his  ability 
and  readiness  to  bestow  j  of  his  authority,  who  has  com- 
manded them  to  make  their  requests  to  him;  and  b\  the 
spontaneous  dictates  of  their  own  minds,  directing  them 
to  the  performance  of  a  duty  so  easy,  so  reasonable,  and  so 
promising  of  the  most  important  advantages. 

Though  the  principal  part  of  prayer  is  petition,  or  ad- 
dressing Heaven  for  the  supply  of  our  various  wants  for 
life  and  futurity,  there  are  other  branches,  as  confession 
of  our  infirmities  and  faults  ;  thanksgiving;  for  the  various 
instances  we  have  received  of  the  Divine  Goodness  ;  and 
intercession  for  our  fellow-creatures.  The  subject  of  our 
petitions  for  ourselves  ought  to  be  necessaries  of  this  life, 
for  which  the  rich,  as  well  as  the  poor,  depend  daily  on  the 
Divine  Bounty,  and  the  Divine  Assistance  toward  our  be- 
ing fitted  for  happiness  hereafter.  The  first,  if  we  judge 
wisely,  we  shall  ask  with  great  submission,  and  in  mod- 
eration, as  being  of  less  consequence,  and  too  apt  to  have 
bad  effects  upon  our  moral  characters,  when  liberally  be- 
stowed. The  latter,  being  of  infinite  consequence  to  us, 
we  may  request  with  more  earnestness  and  importunity. 

If  we  give  the  least  attention  to  our  own  characters,  we 
must  find  our  thoughts  often  trifling  and  wicked,  our  words 
foolish  and  mischievous,  and  our  actions  criminal  before 
God.  If  we  have  any  consideration,  we  cannot  but  think 
ourselves  deplorably  deficient  in  the  performance  of  our 
duty  with  regard  to  ourselves,  our  fellow-creatures,  and 
our  Creator.  If  we  are  in  reason  obliged  to  think  often 
of  the  fatal  errors  of  our  lives,  to  view  and  review  them 
attentively,  with  all  their  heavy  aggravations,  and  to  mourn 
and  lament  them  in  our  own  minds ;  if  all  this  be  highiy 
proper  and  reasonable,  it  is  more  peculiarly  reasonable  to 
acknowledge  our  offences  before  Him,  whom  we  have 
offended ;  to  implore  his  pardon,  who  alone  can  forgive 
and  deprecate  his  vengeance,  which  we  have  so  justly  de- 

3  A 


3  70  OF  VIRTUE. 

served.  We  ourselves,  when  offended  by  a  feilow-creature, 
expect  that  he  should  not  only  be  convinced  in  his  own 
mind  of  his  misbehaviour,  and  speak  of  it  with  concern 
to  others  ;  but  likewise,  that  he  come  and  make  a  direct 
acknowledgment,  and  ask  our  pardon.  Nor  is  there  any- 
thing unreasonable  in  all  this.  How  much  more,  when 
we  have  offended  Him  who  is  infinitely  above  us,  and  from 
whom  we  have  every  thing  to  fear,  if  we  do  not,  by  sin- 
cere repentance,  and  thorough  reformation,  avert  the  deserv- 
ed punishment.  Especially,  if  wre  consider  that  the  per- 
formance of  this  duty  tends  naturally  to  lead  us  to  real 
repentance  and  reformation. 

As  we  ought  in  our  prayers  to  confess  our  faults  and 
errors,  and  that  not  in  general  terms,  but  with  particular 
reflection,  in  our  own  minds,  upon  the  principal  and 
grossest  of  them,  which  every  true  penitent  has  ever  upon 
his  heart,  and  before  his  eyes  ;  so  ought  we  in  all  reason  to 
return  our  sincere  thanks  to  the  universal  Benefactor,  ex- 
pressly for  every  particular  signal  instance  of  his  favour, 
whether  those,  in  which  mankind  in  general  share  with  us, 
or  those  in  which  we  have  been  distinguished  from  others. 

If  we  have  upon  our  minds  a  due  and  habitual  sense  of 
our  offences,  we  shall  of  ourselves  be  willing  to  make  con- 
fession of  them.  If  we  have  any  gratitude  in  our  nature 
we  shall  not  fail  to  express  our  acknowledgments  for  our 
favours  received.  And  if  we  have  any  real  benevolence 
for  our  fellow-creatures,  we  shall  be  naturally  led  to  think, 
it  our  duty  to  present  to  the  common  Father  of  All,  our 
good  wishes  for  them;  that  they  may  be  favoured  with 
every  blessing  which  may  tend  to  promote  universal  hap- 
piness, spiritual  and  temporal. 

If  it  be  at  all  rational  to  worship  God  by  prayer,  it  is 
obviously  so  to  join  together  at  proper  times  in  that  sub- 
lime exercise.  The  advantages  of  public  assemblies  for 
religious  purposes,  are  the  impressing  more  powerfully 
upon  the  minds  of  the  worshippers,  the  sublimity  and- 
importance  of  the  duty  they  are  employed  in,  and  the  pow- 
erful effects  of  universal  example.  It  is  pretty  evident, 
that  the  public  worship  on  Sundays  is  what  cjhiefly  keeps 
up  the  little  appearance  of  religion  that  is  still  left  among 
us.  I  think  there  is  no  good  reason  against  keeping  up 
in  public  worship  as  much  pomp  and  magnificence  as  may 


OF  VIRTUE.  371 

be  consistent  with  propriety,  and  so  as  to  avoid  ostenta- 
tion  and  superstition.  We  are,  in  our  present  state,  very 
mechanical,  and  need  all  proper  helps  for  drawing  our  in- 
clinations along  with  our  duty,  for  engaging  our  attention, 
and  making  such  impressions  upon  us,  as  may  be  lasting 
and  effectual.  Public  worship  ought  to  be  so  conducted, 
as  to  be  most  likely  to  prepare  us  for  a  more  numerous 
society,  in  which  more  sublime  exercises  of  devotion  than 
any  we 'are  now  capable  of  conceiving  of,  may  be  a  consid- 
erable part  of  our  employment  and  happiness. 

Did  our  leading  people  think  rightly,   they  would  see 
the  advantages  of  giving  their  attendance  themselves  at 
places  of  public  worship,  and  using  their  influence  and 
authority  to  draw  others  to  follow  the  same  laudable  ex- 
ample.     Deplorable  are  the  excuses  and  apologies  made 
by  them  for  their  too  general  and  infamous  neglect  of  the 
unquestionable  dutv  of  attending  the  public  worship  of 
God.     Nor  would  it  be  easy  to  determine,  whether  their 
practice  shows  more  want  of  sense  or  of  goodness.     One 
mighty  pretence  made  by  them  is,  That  as  to  public  in- 
structions, truly  they  hold  themselves  to  be  as  good  judges 
of  moral  and  divine  subjects  as  the  clergy  ;  and  therefore 
they  think  it  lost  time  to  give  their  attention  to  any  thing 
which  mav  be  delivered  from  the  pulpit.     Now,  it  seems 
at  least  no't  very  probable,  that  people,  who  spend  most  of 
their  time  (Sundays  notexcepted)  at  the  card-table,  should 
as  thoroughly  understand  the  extensive  sciences  of  morals 
and  theology,  as  the  public  teachers  of  religion,  who  have 
spent  many  years  whollv  in  those  studies.     Those  very 
persons,  when  thev  chance  to  be  overtaken  with  sickness, 
are  very  ready  to  call  in  physicians,  and  do  not  pretend  to 
understand,  as  well  as  they"  who  have  made  physic  their 
study,  the  nature  and  cure  of  diseases.     But  where  it 
strictly  true,  that  the. polite  people  of  our  age  are  so  wise, 
that  they  are  not  like  to  hear  anything  new,  nor  any  known 
truth  set  in  a  new  light  by  any  preacher ;  still  is  it  not  an 
advantage  to  have  a  set  of  good  thoughts,  which  lay  dor- 
mant in  the  mind,  excited  and  called  up  to  the  attention 
of  the  understanding,  by  an  elegant  and  judicious  dis- 
course ?  Were  there  likewise  nothing  in  this,  what  public- 
spirited  person  would  not  even  go  out  of  his  way  tor  the 
sake  of  setting  a  good  example  before  the  young  and  lg- 


372  OF  VIRTUE. 

norant  who  want  instruction,  if  he  does  not.  But  when 
al)  is  said,  here  is  no  pretence  for  neglecting  the  public 
worship  of  God,  which  is  one  principal  end  of  religious 
asbi  mblies.  So  that  those,  who  habitually  throw  contempt 
upon  this  part  of  duty,  are  evidently  guilty  of  a  breach  of 
common  decency  and  natural  religion,  and  are  altogether 
without  excuse. 

If  public  worship,  in  which  the  inhabitants  of  a  whole 
quarter  join  together,  be  reasonable,  it  seems  as  much  so, 
that  families  should  set  apart  stated  times  daily  for  that 
purpose.  We  are  social  beings,  and  oiujlit  to  be  social 
in  all  things  that  are  commendable.  And  if  heads  of  fam- 
ilies are  in  reason  obliged  to  take  care  that  their  children 
and  dependants  have  opportunity  of  consulting  the  inter- 
est  of  a  future  life,  and  of  being  led  by  example,  or  mo- 
ved by  authority,  to  the  observance  of  their  duty  ;  it  is 
obvious,  that  in  this  important  one  of  worshipping  God, 
persons  in  stations  of  authority  and  example,  ought  by 
no  means  to  be  wanting,  lest  the  failures,  (through  their 
bad  example)  of  those  over  whom  they  have  had  charge, 
be  hereafter  justly  imputed  to  their  negligence. 

The  usual  excuses  for  the  neglect  of  family-religion 
made  even  by  many  who  do  not  deny  its  usefulness  and 
propriety,  are,  want  of  time ;  and  a  certain  foolish  reluct- 
ancy  at  performing  the  duty  of  addressing  their  Creator 
in  presence  of  others.     As  to  the  former,  there  is  no  well- 
regulated  house,  in  which  the  family  cannot  be  called  to- 
gether for  half  an  hour  before  the  business,  or  the  pleasure 
of  the  day  comes  on,  to  address  their  Creator  for  his  bles- 
sing and  favour  through  the  day  ;  and  the  same  at  night, 
to  join  in  thanking  him  for  the  mercies  of  the  day.     That 
tinw   must  be  employed  in  some  way  different  from  what 
ha   be   i  yet  heard  of,  which  is  applied  better  than  to  the 
sen  <.c.  of  God.     If  we  can  find  time  for  eating,  drinking, 
dressing,  merchandizing,  or  cards  ;   to  pretend  to  want 
time  for  worshipping  God  is  monstrous  ! 

As  for  the  other  objection  against  keeping  up  the  wor- 
ship of  God  in  families,  it  is  almost  too  frivolous  to  deserve 
any  answer  at  all.  Surely  nothing  is  easier,  than  to  choose 
out  a  few  proper  passages  from  Scripture,  or  with  the  help 
of  the  common-prayer  of  the  church,  and  other  books  of 
devotion  almost  innumerable,  to  compile  a  set  of  devo- 


OF  VIRTUE.  373 

lions  suited  to  the  use  of  a  family,  and  for  the  master  of 
the  house,  kneeling  or  standing,  with  his  children  and  do- 
mestics about  him,  to  pronounce  them  with  proper  devo- 
tion, the  rest  joining  mentally,  or  with  a  low  voice,  in 
every  petition. 

If  any  master  of  a  family  chooses  to  compose  a  set  of 
devotions  for  his  own  use, 'i  will  only  mention  one  direc- 
tion, which  might  render  them  more  useful,  than  they 
could  otherwise  be:  It  is,  that  in  them,  the  moral  virtues, 
or  duties  of  temperance,  benevolence,  and  piety,  might  be 
so  worked  into  the  petitions,  that,  in  praying  for  the  Di- 
vine Grace  and  Assistance  to  perform  their  duty,  they 
should  be  led  to  reflect  upon  it,  and  put  in  mind  to  ex- 
amine themselves  whether  they  make  conscience  of  per- 
forming it.  Bv  this  means  the  daily  devoiions  in  the  fam- 
ily might  partlv  answer  the  end  of  homilies  or  instructions. 

Who  does  not  see,  that  the  natural  consequences  of 
such  an  economy,  constantly  kept  up  in  houses,  are  likely 
to  be  the  promoting  of  fidelity  in  domestics,  obedience 
in  children,  and  drawing  down  the  Divine  blessing  upon 
families  ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  th  it  a  society,  in  which  no 
regard  is  shown  to  the  Supreme  Being,  is  not  likely  to  be 
blest  with  the  Divine  favour  or  protection  ? 

That  all  devotions  in  which  others  are  joined  with  the 
person,  who  utters  them^  even  in  a  private  family,  are  bet- 
ter pre-composed  than  spoken  extempore,  seems  to  me 
verv  clear.  There  are  extremely  few,  even  among  men 
of  the  best  abilities,  who  are  capable  of  uttering  fluently, 
and  without  hesitation,  tautology,  or  some  kind  of  impro- 
priety, an  unstudied  speech  of  any  length.  And  that  a 
speech  made  in  public  to  God  himself,  should  be  ill-di- 
gested, must  be  owned  to  be  very  gross.  For  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  in  such  a  case,  the  speaker,  instead  of  leading 
along  with  him  the  devotion  of  his  hearers,  must  confound 
and  distract  it.  And  it  seems  enough  in  any  reason,  that 
the  speaker  have  the  manner,  and  delivery  to  attend  to, 
without  his  being  obliged  at  the  same  time  to  study  the 
m  atter. 

The  supplication  of  a  single  person  by  himself,  is,  in 
my  opinion,  more  properly  presented  in  his  own  thoughts 
or"  words,  than  in  those  of  any  other  ;  though  the  reading 


374  OF  VIRTUE. 

of  books  of  devotion  are  useful  helps  to  those  whose 
thoughts  want  to  be  helped  out. 

What  can  be  more  rational,  more  sublime,  or  more  dc- 
lighttul,  that  for  a  dependent  creature  to  raise  his  thoughts 
to  his  Creator  !  to  fill  his  mind  with  a  sense  of  the  present 
Divinity  !  to  pour  forth  his  soul  before  Him  who  made 
it  *?  What  so  great  an  honour  can  an  humble  mortal  enjoy, 
as  to  be  allowed  to  speak  to  God?  What  exercise  can  the 
rational  soul  engage  in,  so  worthy  the  exertion  of  its  no- 
blest powers  and  faculties,  as  addressing  the  Majesty  of 
Heaven  ?  How  can  it,  in  this  present  state,  approach  so 
near  to  the  Author  of  its  being,  or  rise  to  an  enjoyment 
so  much  resembling  the  beatic  vision,  as  by  this  sub- 
lime converse  with  the  Omnipresent  Deity  ?  To  swell  the 
thought  with  the  infinite  greatness  of  the  Object  of  wor- 
ship ;  to  consider  one's  self  as  addressing  that  tremendous 
Power,  whose  word  produced  the  universe;  to  think  that 
one  is  going  to  prostrate  his  soul  before  Him  who  formed 
it,  who  is  to  be  its  judge,  and  has  the  power  of  disposing 
of  it  for  eternity  ! — What  can  be  conceived  so  wonderfully 
awful  and  striking?  But  to  reflect,  that  the  glorious  object 
of  worship,  though  infinitely  exalted  above  the  adoration 
of  angels  and  archangels,  is  yet  ready  to  hear,  and  bestow 
happiness  upon  the  meanest  of  his  rational  creatures  ;  to 
think  that  the  humble  petition  of  the  sincere  penitent  will 
not  be  rejected ;  that  the  poor  and  needy  are  no  more  be- 
neath his  notice,  or  out  of  the  reach  of  his  goodness,  than 
the  rich  and  the  mighty  ;  what  can  be  more  comfortable  \ 
If  God  is  the  awful  Judge  of  mankind,  he  is  also  the 
merciful  Father  of  mankind.  If  his  eye  is  too  pure  to 
behold  presumptuous  vice  without  abhorrence,  and  too 
piercing  to  be  deceived  by  the  most  artful  hypocrisy  ;  it 
is  also  open  to  look  with  pit}-  upon  the  prostrate  mourner, 
and  his  goodness  ready  to  forgive  the  humble  penitent  what 
he  cannot  forgive  himself. 

Be  no  longer,  unthinking  mortal,  so  much  thy  own 
enemy  as  to  exclude  thyself  from  the  highest  honour  thy 
nature  is  capable  of.  Aspire  to  the  sublime  happiness  of 
conversing  with  thy  Maker.  Enlarge  thy  narrow  mind 
to  take  in  the  thought  of  Him  for  whom  thou  art  made. 
Call  forth  all  that  is  within  thee  to  magnify  and  praise  Him. 
Humble  thyself  to  the  dust,  in  the  contemplation  of  his 


OF  VIRTUE.  375 

unequalled  Majesty.  Open  the  inmost  recesses  of  thy 
soul  to  Him  who  gave  it  being.  Expose  to  Him,  vyho 
knows  thy  frame,  thy  weaknesses,  and  thy  faults.  Think 
not  to  conceal  or  palliate  them  before  that  Eye  which  is 
not  to  be  deceived.  Hast  thou  offended?  Make  no  delay 
to  confess  before  thy  Creator  and  thy  Judge,  what  he  al- 
ready knows.  Though  he  already  knows  thy  folly,  he 
expects  thy  own  confession  of  it,  and  that  thou  deprecate 
his  vengeance.  Though  he  may  already  have  thoughts  of 
mercv  for  thee,  it  is  only  on  condition  that  thou  humbly 
emplore  it,  and  by  repentance  and  amendment  show  thy- 
self worthy  of  it.  Art  thou  weak  and  helpless  ?  If  thou 
knowest  thyself,  thou  feelest  it.  Address  thyself  then  to 
Him  who  is  almighty,  that  his  power  may  support  thee. 
Art  thou  ignorant  and  short-sighted"?  If  thou  dost  not 
think  thyself  so,  thou  art  blind  indeed.  Apply  then  to 
Him,  whose  knowledge  is  infinite,  that  thou  mayest  be 
wise  in  his  wisdom.  Art  thou  in  want  of  all  things?  If 
thou  thinkest  otherwise,  thou  art  wretched  indeed.  Have 
recourse  then  to  him  who  is  the  Lord  of  all  things,  and  is 
possessed  of  inexhaustible  riches.  If  thou  hast  a  just 
sense  of  thy  own  state,  if  thou  hast  proper  conceptions  of 
thy  Creator  and  Judge,  or  if  thou  hast  a  soul  capable  of 
any  thought  worthy  the  dignity  of  a  reasonable  immortal 
nature,  thou  wilt  make  it  thy  greatest  delight  to  worship 
and  adore  Him,  whom  to  serve  is  the  glory  of  the  bright- 
est seraph  in  the  celestial  regions. 

A  numerous  assembly  of  people,  celebrating  with  grate- 
ful hearts  the  praises  of  their  Almighty  Creator  and  Boun- 
tiful Benefactor,  may  be  for  any  thing  we  can  conceive, 
one  of  the  best  emblems  of  some  part  of  the  future  em- 
plovment  and  happiness  of  immortal  spirits,  which  the 
present  state  can  exhibit.  It  were  well,  if  we  could  by 
the  mere  force  of  cool  reason,  so  elevate  our  conceptions 
of  the  Divinity,  as  worthily  to  magnify  him  in  our  public 
assemblies.  But  so  long  as  we  continue  the  mechanical 
beings  we  are,  we  must  be  willing  to  use  all  possible  helps 
for  working  ourselves  up  to  what  our  imperfect  faculties  ol 
themselves  are  not,  generally  speaking,  equal  to,  or  how- 
ever, are  not  at  all  times  in  a  condition  for.  Whoever  un- 
derstands human  nature,  knows  of  what  consequence  asso- 
ciations are.     And  it  is  wholly  owing  to  the  infirmities  of 


376  OF  VIRTUE. 

our  nature  and  present  state,  that  a  due  regard  to  decenci' 
and  solemnity  in  public  worship  is  of  such  importance  to. 
wards  our  moral  improvement.     Considering  these  things 
it  is  with  concern  I  must  observe  upon  the  manner  of  per-' 
forming  the  solemn  office  of  praising  God  in  our  public  as- 
semblies that  it  very  much  wants  reformation.      I  know  of 
no  application  of  music  to  this  sublime  use,  that  is  not 
sadly  deficient,  except  what  is  composed  in  the  manner  of 
anthems.     For  as  in  every  piece  of  sacred  poesy    there 
are  various  and  very  different  tastes,  and  strains,  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  to  apply  the  same  returning  set  of  notes  to  all 
alike  is  inconsistent,  and  not  expressive  of  the  sense  and 
spirit  of  the  piece.     The  eighteenth  Psalm,  for  example, 
is  one  of  the  noblest  hymns  in  Hoh  Scripture.     From  the 
beginning  to  the  fourth  verse,  the  royal  author  expresses 
his,  or  the  Messiah's  joy  and  gratitude  for  his  deliverance 
from  his  enemies.   It  is  evident,  that  the  music,  which  is  to 
accompany  this  part  of  the  piece,  ought  to  be  bold,  cheerful, 
and  triumphant :  else  it  will  disguise  and  misrepresent  the 
thoughts,  instead  of  expressing  them.     The  fourth  and 
Mth  verses  express  the  Psalmist's,  or  Messiah's,  dreadful 
distress,  by  the  cruelty  of  wicked  men,  or  evil  spirits.     It 
is  plain,  that  the  triumphant  strains  of  music,  which  suited 
the  former  part,  are  not  at  all  proper  to  express  this;  but 
that  on  the  contrary,  it  requires  a  set  of  the  most  dreary 
and  hornd  sounds  which  music  can  utter.    The  sixth  verse 
represents  the  Sacred  Writer's,  or  Messiah's,  complaint 
in  his  great  distress.     To  express  this  suitably,  neither  of 
the  former  pieces  of  melodv  is  proper  ;  but  a  set  of  mel- 
ancholy and  plaintive  notes.  The  seventh,  and  some  of  the 
following  verses,  give  an  account  of  the  Divine  appear- 
ance m  answer  to  the  foregoing  prayer,  attended    with 
earthquakes,  tempests,   lightnings,   and  all  the  terrors  of 
Omnipotence.     Every  one  of  which  images  ought  to  fcw 
represented  by  a  strain  of  music,  properly  adapted  to  the 
sense,   in  taste  and   expression.     But  chatmt  this  whole 
piece,  as  is  done  at  cathedral  churches,  or  to  sing  it,   as  at 
parish  churches,  and  meetings,  to  the  same  set  of 'notes, 
returning  through  excry  succeeding  verse,  is  not  perform- 
ing the  piece  so  well  as  if  the  preacher  were  to  read  it  to 
the  people.     For  a  person  of  a  good  elocution,  would  ut- 
ter it  m  such  a  manner,  as  at  least  should  not  disguise  or 


OF  VIRTUE.  377 

misrepresent  the  sense,  as  is  the  effect  of  applying  to  it  un- 
suitable, or  bad  music,  which  is  worse  than  none.  But, 
to  those,  who  find  proper  sentiments  excited  in  their 
minds  by  the  more  imperfect  ways  of  performing  the  Di- 
vine praises,  I  have  nothing  to  say,  to  lessen  the  satisfaction 
they  have.  I  only  would  show  what  is  the  most  effectual 
and  perfect  way  of  applying  music  to  religious  purposes. 
And,  after  all,  a  proper  disposition  of  mind  is  the  principal 
thing,  without  which  no  bodily  service  can  be  acceptable 
to  Infinite  Purity. 

To  conclude — it  is  evident,  that  our  duty  to  our  Creator 
is,  as  above  observed,  the  most  important,  and  noblest  part 
of  what  we  ought  to  study  and  practise,  in  order  to  attain 
the  true  Diarnitv  of  Human  Nature.  For  that  Infinite  Be- 
ing,  by  whom,  and  for  whom  we  are,  though  in  his  essence 
invisible,  in  his  nature  incomprehensible,  in  his  perfections 
inconceivable,  does  yet  present  himself  to  all  otir  percep- 
tions, bodily  and  mental.  Every  object  we  behold,  every 
sound  we  hear,  every  bodily  substance  we  touch,  every 
subject  of  thought,  must  be  either  himself,  or  the  work  of 
his  power.  Our  senses,  whenever  we  exert  them,  are  em- 
ployed upon  some  creature  of  Omnipotence  ;  and  when 
the  mind  abstracts  itself  from  all  the  bodily  operations, 
even  then  it  apprehends,  it  sees,  it  feels,  the  sustaining, 
informing,  and  invigorating  power  within  it.  It  finds  it- 
self surrounded  with  the  immensity  of  Divinity,  and  that 
itself  and  all  things  are  established  on  that  universal  basis 
of  existence  ;  that  all  things  are  full  of  Deity  ;  and  that  his 
presence  is  the  Mind  within  the  mind. 

How  amazing  then  the  stupidity  of  numbers  of  the  hu- 
man species  !  An  order  of  beings  formed  with  a  capacity 
for  apprehending  the  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  uni- 
verse ;  for  contemplating  the  most  delightful  and  most 
striking  of  all  subjects  ;  for  having  their  minds  enlarged 
and  ennobled  by  being  habituated  to  the  grand  ideas  of 
immensity,  of  wisdom,  goodness,  power,  and  glory  un- 
bounded and  unlimited  !  Yet  how  do  numbers  of  them 
pass  through  life,  without  ever  endeavouring  to  form  any 
just  notions  of  that  Being,  on  whom  they  depend  for  their 
very  existence  ;  without  ever  thinking  of  any  duty  they 
may  owe  him,  or  any  consequence  of  gaining  or  losing  his 
favour !   What  stupendous  glories,  what  wondrous  per- 

"3  B 


378  OT  VIRTUE. 

lections,  what  sublime  contemplations,  are  lost  to  the  gross- 
and  insensible  minds  of  many  of  our  species!  How  is  the 
only  Being,  who  possesses  existence  in  himself,  over- 
looked by  those  whom  he  himself  has  brought  into  being  ? 
How  does  He,  by  whom  all  things  exist,  seem  to  such  in- 
considerate minds  not  to  exist !  How  do  the  glories  of  his 
works,  which  were  intended  to  point  him  out,  conceal  from 
such  unthinking  minds  the  glorious  Maker  !  How  do  such 
ungrateful  men  basely  take  up  with  the  gifts,  without 
thinking  on  the  All-bounteous  Giver !  How  much  are 
those  men  of  gross  and  earthly  dispositions  their  own  en- 
emies !  How  do  they  strive  to  feed  their  heaven-born  minds 
with  the  unsatisfying  and  nauseous  objects  of  sense  ;  de- 
priving them  of  that  sublime  entertainment,  for  which  they 
were  intended,  and  which  is  ever  offering  itself  to  them, 
the  contemplation  and  enjoyment  of  Divinity,  the  posses- 
sion of  infinite  perfection !  Open  thy  narrow  mind  un- 
thinking mortal.  Enlarge  thy  confined  desires.  Raise 
thy  groveling  ambition.  Quit  the  trifling  objects  which 
now  possess  and  which  will  in  the  end  disappoint  thee. 
Trample  under  thy  feet  the  wretched  amusements  of 
riches,  honours,  and  pleasures ;  and  aspire  to  what  is 
worthy  the  dignity  of  thy  nature,  and  thy  Divine  Original. 
It  is  thy  Maker  himself  that  is  ready  to  take  possession  of 
thy  mind.  It  is  the  Divinity  himself,  that  would  pour 
into  thy  soul  delights  ineffable,  that  would  dwell  in  thee, 
and  join  thee  to  himself  in  an  eternal  union,  which  will 
raise  thee  to  bliss  and  glory  above  thy  most  extensive 
wishes,  beyond  thy  most  elevated  conceptions. 

SECTION  IX. 

Miscellaneous  Thoughts,  and  Directions,  chiefly  Moral, 

IF  the  reader  should  find,  among  the  following  apho- 
risms, some  thoughts  to  much  the  same  purpose  with 
others,  in  other  parts  of  this  work;  it  is  hoped,  he  will  ex- 
cuse such  a  repetition  in  consideration  of  the  variety  of 
matter,  and  the  usefulness  of  the  subjects,  which  will 
bear  being  inculcated  in  the  most  copious  manner. 

It  is  not  the  part  of  a  wise  man  to  be  eager  after  any 
thing,  but  improvement  in  goodness.  All  things  else 
may  be  dispensed  with. 


OF  VIRTUE.  379 

To  learn  to  talk  well,  learn  first  to  hear. 

Resist  vice  at  the  beginning,  and  you  will  conquer  it  in 

the  end. 

A  clear  conscience  is  better  than  a  clear  estate. 

Never  think  a  thought,  speak  a  word,  or  do  a  deed,  but 
what  you  may  l>e  sale  in  setting  about  with  the  following 
preface.  "  6  God  my  Maker  and  Judge,  I  do  not  for- 
get, that  thou  art  witness  to  what  I  am  about." 

Has  not  fashion  a  considerable  share  in  the  charities  of 
the  age?  Let  every  one,  who  gives,  carefully  consider 
from  what  motives  he  acts. 

If  you  have  a  well-disposed  mind,  you  will  go  into  no 
company  more  agreeable,  or  more  useful,  than  your  own. 
All  is  not  well  with  those  to  whom  solitude  is  disagree, 
able. 

It  is  no  shame  to  learn.     The  shame  is  to  be  ignorant. 

Forgive  every  body  rather  than  yourself. 

If  you  have  health,  a  competency,  and  a  good  con- 
science, what  would  you  have  besides?  Something  to 
disturb  your  happiness  ? 

To  expect,  young  man,  that  your  life  should  be  one 
continued  series  of  pleasure,  is  to  expect  to  meet  with 
what  no  mortal,  from  Adam  down  to  the  present  times, 
has  yet  met  with ;  and  what  by  the  nature  of  things  would 
be  more  strange,  than  the  throwing  the  same  number  with 
a  die  ten  millions  of  times  successively. 

When  you  hear  in  company,  or  read  in  a  pamphlet, 
somewhat  smart  and  lively,  and  quite  new  to  you,  urged 
against  any  opinion,  or  maxim  allowed  by  men  of  the 
freest  sentiments,  and  most  improved  understandings ;  do 
not  let  yourself  be  immediately  perverted  by  it.  But 
suppose,  that,  though  it  may  be  new  to  you,  it  may  have 
been  often  started  and  answered  ;  and  though  you  cannot 
at  once  confute  it,  others  can.  And  make  it  your  business, 
if  the  point  be  of  consequence,  to  find  out  those,  who  can. 
Nothing  is  more  weak,  than  to  be  staggered  in  your  opin- 
ion by  every  trifle  that  may  fall  in  your  way. 

Accustom  yourself  to  think  the  greatest  part  of  your 
life  already  past ;  contract  your  views  and  schemes,  and  set 
light  by  a  vain  and  transitory  state,  and  all  its  vain  enjoy- 
ments. 

To  feel  old  age  coming  on,  will  so  little  mortify  a  wise 


380  OF  VIRTUE. 

man,  that  he  can  think  of  it  with  pleasure ;  as  the  decay 
of  nature  shows  him  that  the  happy  change  of  state,  for 
which,  he  has  been  all  his  life  preparing  himself,  is  draw- 
ing nearer.  And  surely  it  must  be  desirable,  to  find  him- 
seif  draw  nearer  to  the  end  and  the  reward  of  his  labours. 
The  case  of  an  old  man,  who  has  no  comfortable  prospect 
for  futurity,  and  finds  the  fatal  hour  approaching  which  is 
to  deprive  him  of  all  his  happiness  ;  is  too  deplorable  for 
any  w  ords  to  represent. 

It  is  easy  to  live  well  among  good  people.  But  show  me 
the  man,  who  can  preserve  his  temper,  his  wisdom,  and 
his  virtue,  in  spite  of  strong  temptations  and  universal  ex- 
ample. 

It  is  hardly  credible  what  acquisitions  in  knowledge  one 
may  make,  by  carefully  husbanding  and  properly  apply- 
ing every  spare  moment. 

Are  you  content  to  be  for  ever  undone,  if  you  should 
happen  not  to  live  till  the  time  you  have  set  for  repent- 
ance? If  so,  put  it  off  a  little  longer,  and  take  your 
chance. 

It  is  a  shame,  if  any  person  poorer  than  you  is  more 
contented  than  you. 

Strive  to  excel  in  what  is  truly  noble.  Mediocrity  is 
contemptible. 

Judge  of  books,  as  of  men.  There  is  none  wholly 
faultless,  orperftct.  That  production  may  be  said  to  be 
a  valuable  one,  by  the  perusal  of  which  a  judicious  reader 
may  be  the  wiser  and  better ;  and  is  not  to  be  despised 
for  a  few  deficiencies,  or  inconsistencies. 

Do  not  think  of  lying  for  the  truth,  or  working  the  works 
of  the  devil  for  God's  sake. 

Honesty  sometimes  fails  :  But  it  is  because  diligence 
or  abilities  are  wanting.  Otherwise  it  is  naturally  by  far 
an  overmatch  for  cunning. 

A  bad  reputation  will  lie  a  stumbling-block  in  your 
way  to  rising  in  life,  and  will  disable  you  from  doing  good 
to  others. 

If  ever  you  was  dangerously  ill,  what  fault  or  folly  lay 
heaviest  upon  your  mind  "?  Take  care  to  root  it  out,  with- 
out delay,  and  without  mercy. 

An  unjust  acquisition  is  like  a  barbed  arrow,  that  must 


OF  VIRTUE.  381 

be  drawn  backward  vJth  horrible  anguish  ;  else  it  will  be 
your  destruction. 

To  excel  greatly  in  music,  drawing,  dancing,  the  pedan- 
tic parts  of  learning,  play,  and  other  accomplishments, 
rather  ornamental  than  useful,  is  beneath  a  gentleman,  i  nd 
shows,  that  to  acquire  such  perfection  in  trifles,  he  must 
have  employed  himself  in  a  way  unworthy  the  dignity  of 
his  station.  The  peculiar  accomplishments,  in  which  a 
man  of  rank  ought  to  shine,  are  knowledge  of  the  world, 
acquired  by  history,  travel,  conversation,  and  business ; 
of  the  constitution,"  interest,  and  the  laws  of  his  country; 
and  of  morals  and  religion ;  without  excluding  such  a  com- 
petent  understanding  of  other  subjects,  as  may  be  con- 
sistent  with  a  perfect  mastery  of  the  accomplishments 
which  make  the  gentleman's  proper  calling. 

The  meanest  spirit  may  bear  a  slight  affliction.  And 
in  bearing  a  great  calamity,  there  is  great  glory,  and  a 
great  reward. 

A  wise  man  will  improve  by  studying  his  own  past  fol- 
lies. For  every  slip  will  discover  some  weakness  still 
uncorrected,  which  occasioned  his  misbehaviour;  and  will 
set  him  upon  effectually  redressing  every  failure. 

There  is  somewhat  arch  in  the  Roman  Catholics  putting 
their  carnivals  before  lent.  Mirth  is  generally  the  pre- 
lude  of  repentance. 

To  be  drawn  into  a  fault,  shows  human  frailty.  To  be 
habitually  guilty  of  /oily,  shows  a  corrupt  mind.  To  love 
vice  in  others  is  the  spirit  of  a  devil,  rather  than  a  man ; 
being  the  pure,  disinterested  love  of  vice?  for  its  own  sake. 
Yet  there  are  such  characters ! 

Remember,  your  bottle-companions  will  not  bear  you 
company  at  your  death  ;  nor  lighten  your  sentence  at  the 
dreadful  day  of  judgment.  Let  the  vicious  therefore  go 
alone  at  present;  since  their  company  may  heighten,  but 
will  not  abate  your  punishment. 

Proofs  of  genuine  repentance  are,  abstaining  from  all 
temptations  to  the  same  vice,  thorough  reformation,  and 
all  possible  reparation. 

Take  care  of  those  vices  which  resemble  virtues. 

To  abuse  the  poor  for  his  poverty,  is  to  insult  God's 
providence. 

Seek  virtue  rather  than  riches.     You  may  be  sure  to 


382  OF  VIRTUE. 

acquire  the  first,  but  cannot  promise  for  the  latter  No 
one  can  rob  you  of  the  first  without  vour  consent  •  vou 
may  be  deprived  of  the  latter  a  hundred  ways.  The  first 
will  gam  you  the  esteem  of  all  good  and  wise  men  •  the 
fetter  wji]  get  you  flatterers  enough ;  but  not  one  real  friend, 
llie  first  will  abide  by  you  forever;  the  latter  will  leave 
you  at  death,  to  shift  as  you  can  for  eternity. 

Moral  truths  are  as  certain  as  mathematical.  It  is  as 
pertain  that  good  is  not  evil,  nor  evil  good,  as  that  a  part 
is  less  than  the  whole,  or  that  a  circle  is  not  a  triangle 

What  matter  what  you  know,  if  you  do  not  know  your- 
self ?  J 

It  is  pity  that  most  people  overdo  either  the  active  or 
contemplative  part  of  life.  To  be  continually  immersed 
m  business,  is  the  way  to  become  forgetful  of  every  thine 
truly  noble  and  liberal.  To  be  wholly  engaged  in  study 
is  to  lose  a  great  part  of  the  usefulness  of  a  social  nature 
How  much  better  would  it  be,  if  people  would  temper 
action  with  contemplation,  and  use  action  as  a  relief  to 
study  ? 

You  may  easily  know,  whether  you  are  in  earnest  about 
reforming,  and  living  virtuously."  If  you  be,  you  will 
tly  from  every  temptation  to  vice,  and  carefullv  pursue 
even  help  to  virtue.  As  you  may  know  whether  Vou  love 
money  by  observing,  whether  you  carefully  pursue  the 
means  for  getting,  and  cautiously  avoid  occasions  of  ex- 
pense or  loss. 

Never  force  nature.  When  study  becomes  a  burden 
give  it  over  for  that  time.  You  will  not  improve  by  it 
it  it  goes  against  the  grain. 

Preserve,  if  you  can,  the  esteem  of  the  wise  and  good. 
But  more  especially  your  own.  Consider  how  deplorable 
a  condition  of  mind  you  will  be  in,  when  your  conscience 
tells  you,  you  are  a  villain. 

It  is  not  eating  a  great  quantity  of  food  that  nourishes 
most :  Nor  devouring  of  books  that  gives  solid  knowledge. 
It  is  what  you  digest,  that  feeds  both  body  and  mind.  Have 
your  learning  m  your  head,  and  not  in  vour  library. 

You  had  better  find  out  one  of  your  own  weaknesses, 
than  ten  of  your  neighbours'. 

There  is  only  one  single  object  you  ought  to  pursue,  at 
all  adventures;  that  is  virtue  :  All  other  things  are  to  be 


OF  VIRTUE.  383 

sought  conditionally.  What  sort  of  man  must  he  be,  who 
resolves  to  be  rich  or  great  at  any  rate  ? 

If  you  give  only  with  a  view  to  the  gratitude  of  those  you 
oblige,  you  deserve  to  meet  with  ingratitude.  If  you  give 
from  truly  disinterested  motives,  you  will  not  be  discour- 
aged or  tired  out  by  the  worst  returns. 

Rather  be  the  bubble,  than  the  biter. 

Do  your  duty,  if  the  world  should  laugh.  Obedience  to 
the  Almighty  Governor  of  the  universe,  is  what  one  would 
hardly  think  should  draw  ridicule  upon  a  man.  But,  how- 
ever, if  men  will  be  so  absurd  as  to  laugh  at  you  for  what  is 
your  greatest  wisdom  ;  wait  patiently  the  final  issue,  and 
then  it  will  be  seen  who  acted  the  ridiculous  part. 

If  it  should  be  hard  to  do  your  duty,  it  is  evidently  not 
impossible.  To  mention  none  of  the  christian  heroes, 
there  is  not  a  virtue  which  the  heathens  have  not  shown 
to  be  practicable.  Do  not  pretend  that  a  christian  cannot 
be  chaste,  when  you  know  that  a  young  Scipio  bravely 
resisted  a  most  powerful  temptation  of  that  kind,  in  yield- 
ing to  which  he  would  have  acted  only  according  to  the 
custom  of  those  times.  Do  not  pretend  that  it  is  impos- 
sible for  a  christian  to  forgive  injuries,  when  you  know, 
that  Phocian,  going  to  suffer  death  unjustly,  charged  it 
upon  his  son,  with  his  last  breath  that  he  should  show  no 
resentment  against  his  father's  persecutors.  Do  not  excuse 
yourself  in  giving  up  the  truth,  through  fear  of  offending 
those  on  whom  you  depend,  when  you  know  that  Attll'ius 
Regulus  gave  himself  up  to  tortures,  and  death,  rather 
than  falsify  his  word  even  to  his  enemies.  Let  it  not  be. 
said  that  a  christian,  with  his  clear  views  of  an  over-rul- 
ing Providence,  shall  be  overcome  with  affliction,  or  im- 
piously murmur  against  the  great  Disposer  of  all  things, 
when  we  find  an  Epictetus,  sunk  in  misery  and  slavery, 
vindicating  the  Divine  disposal  of  himself,  and  subduing 
his  mind  to  the  dispensations  of  Providence.  Do  not  ex- 
cuse yourself  from  a  little  expense,  trouble,  or  hazard  of 
ill-will,  for  the  general  good,  when  you  know  that  a  Le- 
onidasy  a  Calpurnius  Fiamma,  the  Decii,  and  hundreds 
more,  voluntarily  devoted  themselves  to  destruction,  to 
save  their  country.  If  you  pretend  to  be  a  christian,  that 
is,  to  profess  the  most  pure  and  most  sublime  principles 


384  OF  VIRTUE. 

in  the  world,  do  not  infamously  fall  short  of  the  perfection 
of  unenlightened  heathens. 

If  a  temptation  solicits,  think  whether  you  would  yield 
to  it,  if  you  knew  you  should  die  next  day. 

Be  assured,  whatever  you  may  think  now,  when  you 
come  to  a  death- bed,  you  will  think  you  have  given  your- 
self up  too  much  to  pleasures,  and  other  worldly  pursuits, 
and  be  sorry  that  you  had  so  large  a  share  of  them. 

A  good  man  has  nothing  to  fear;  A  bad  man  every 
thing. 

It  is  not  easy  to  keep  the  mean  between  temporizing 
too  much,  and  giving  a  proper  testimony  for  decency  and 
virtue,  when  one  sees  them  outraged. 

Do  not  regard  any  person's  opinion  of  you,  against 
your  own  knowledge. 

Observe  whether  vice  does  not  deform  the  most  amia- 
ble persons. 

Custom  will  have  the  same  effect,  with  respect  to  death 
as  to  other  frightful  things  ;  it  will  take  off  its  terror. 

To  understand  a  subject  well,  read  a  set  of  the  best 
authors  upon  it ;  make  an  abstract  of  it ;  and  talk  it  over 
with  the  judicious. 

There  are  no  little  sins. 

It  is  in  any  man's  power  to  be  contented  ;  of  very  few 
to  be  rich.  The  first  will  infallibly  make  you  happy  ; 
which  is  more  than  you  can  depend  on  from  the  latter. 

He  who  begins  soon  to  be  good,  is  like  to  be  very  good 
at  last. 

Take  care  not  to  go  to  the  brink  of  vice,  lest  you  fall 
down  the  precipice. 

If  you  have,  or  have  not,  a  chance  for  happiness  in  the 
next  life,  it  cannot  signify  much  how  you  pass  the  pre- 
sent. Would  you  pity  a  person,  who  was  obliged  to 
travel  in  bad  weather,  and  put  up  with  mean  accommoda- 
tions, as  he  was  going  to  take  possession  of  a  fine  estate  ? 
Or  would  you  envy  one,  who  had  a  pleasant  day  to  go  to 
execution? 

If  you  have  the  esteem  of  the  wise  and  good,  do  not 
trouble  yourself  about  the  rest.  And  if  you  have  not 
even  that,  let  the  approbation  of  a  well  informed  conscience 
make  you  easy  in  the  mean  while.  Time  will  come, 
when  you   mav   command  the  other:   I  mean  when  vou 


OF  VIRTUE.  385 

have  had  the  public  approbation  of  an  infallible  Judge 
before  angeis  and  men. 

A  good  man  gets  good  out  of  evil.  A  wicked  man 
turns  good  to  evil. 

Fashion  ought  to  have  no  weight  in  matters  of  any 
greater  consequence  than  the  cut  of  a  coat  or  a  cap.  Num- 
bers do  not  alter  right  and  wrong.  If  it  should  be  the 
fashion  of  this  world  to  act  foolishly  and  wickedly,  depend 
on  it,  the  fashion  of  the  next  will  be,  for  virtue  to  be 
rewarded  and  vice  to  be  punished. 

If  you  can  find  a  place,  where  you  may  be  hid  from 
God,  and  your  conscience,  do  there  what  you  will. 

Obedience  is  rhe  great  lesson  to  be  taught  children.  It 
is  what  the  All- wise  Teacher  would  bring  mankind  to. 

If  you  act  only  with  a  view  to  praise,  you  deserve 
none. 

Listen  to  conscience,  and  it  will  tell  you,  whether  you 
really  do  as  you  would  be  done  by. 

Virtue  in  theory  only  is  not  virtue. 

That  bad  habits  are  not  quite  unconquerable,  is  evident 
from  Demosthenes,  Cicero,  and  many  others.  But  that 
they  are  very  troublesome  to  deal  with,  and  grow  always 
stronger  and  stronger,  universal  experience  proves  too 
sufficiently. 

Do  not  deceive  yourself:  The  true  preparation  for 
death,  is  not  living  at  random  to  threescore,  and  then  retir- 
ing from  the  world,  and  giving  up  a  few  of  the  last  years 
of  life  to  prayer  and  repentance:  But  cultivating  in  your 
mind,  from  the  beginning,  the  substantial  virtues,  which 
are  the  true  ornaments  of  a  worthy  character,  and  which 
naturally  fit  it  for  endless  happiness. 

He  only  is  truly  virtuous,  who  would  be  so,  if  he  had 
no  prospect  of  gaining  more  happiness  by  virtue  than  vice: 
though  at  the  same  time,  it  is  reasonable,  and  commend- 
able, to  have  a  due  respect  to  the  recompence  of  reward,  as 
things  are  at  present  constituted. 

The  lot  of  mankind,  upon  an  average,  is  wonderfully 
equal.  The  distribution  of  happiness  is  not  so  irregular, 
as  appears  at  first  view.  There  cannot  indeed  be  any 
great  inequality  in  the  distribution  of  what  is  so  inconsider- 
able as  the   temporal    happiness  enjoyed  by    mankind. 

3  C 


586  OF  VIRTUE. 

The  contented,  retired,  and  virtuous  man  has  the  best 
share. 

Who  could  imagine  it  possible  to  forget  death,  which 
every  object  puts  one  in  mind  of,  and  every  moment  brings 
nearer  ? 

What  a  strange  condition  a  man  must  be  in,  whose 
judgment  and  practice  are  at  variance.  If  a  man  does 
not  perfectly  agree  with  his  wife,  they  can  sometimes 
avoid  one  another's  company,  and  so  be  easy.  But  can 
one  run  away  from  himself? 

Of  all  virtues,  patience  is  oftenest  wanted.  How 
unhappy  must  he  be,  who  is  wholly  unfurnished  with 
what  is  wanted  every  moment? 

He  who  endeavours  to  drown  thought,  and  stifle  co^ 
science,  or  who  goes  on  in  expensive  living,  without  lo 
ing  into  his  affairs,  is  about  as  wise,  as  he  who  should  shut 
his  eyes,  and  then  run  towards  the  precipice,  as  if  his  not 
seeing  the  danger  would  annihilate  it. 

That  the  ways  of  virtue  are  preferable  to  those  of  vice, 
is  evident,  in  that  we  do  not  find  people  in  old  age,  sick- 
ness, or  on  a  death-bed,  repenting,  that  they  have  lived  too 
virtuously  ;  but  the  contrary.  This  is  a  general  confession 
from  mankind,  and  at  a  time  when  they  certainly  are  sin- 
cere. And  they  would  give  the  same  testimony  to  vir- 
tue at  other  times,  if  they  could  disengage  themselves 
from  the  prejudices  and  passions,  which  blind  them. 

A  good  man,  when  he  comes  to  die,  has  nothing  to  do, 
but  to  die. 

Perhaps  no  created  nature  could  be  happy,  without 
having  experienced  the  contrast  of  unhappiness. 

As  no  character  is  more  venerable,  than  that  of  a  wise 
old  man  ;  so  none  is  more  contemptible  than  that  of  an 
old  fool. 

It  makes  wretched  work  when  the  married  pair  come  to 
disputing  about  privileges  and  superiority. 

There  is  nothing  more  foolish  than  for  those  to  fall  out, 
who  must  live  together,  as  husband  and  wife,  and  such 
near  relations.  But  there  is  no  falling  out  without  folly 
on  one  side,  or  the  other,  or  both. 

The  folly  of  some  people  in  conversation,  is  beneath 
criticism.  The  only  way  of  answering  them,  is  to  go  out 
of  bearing. 


OF  VIRTUE.  387 

Consider  with  yourself,  whether  the  wise  and  good 
would  value  you  more  or  less,  than  they  do  now,  if  they 
knew  your  whole  character. 

It  is  well  when  old  people  know  that  they  are  old. 
Many,  on  the  contrary,  still  affect  to  stt  themselves  oft'  as 
unimpaired  inabilities  both  bodily  and  mental,  long  enough 
after  they  had  outlived  themselves. 

It  is  necessary  often  to  find  fault.  And  the  only  way  to 
do  it,  so  as  to  be  regarded,  is  to  keep  up  your  own  digni- 
ty. A  master  who  blusters  and  swears  at  his  servant,  is 
despised  ;  while  he,  who  reproves  with  mildness  and  gra- 
vity, is  likely  to  be  reverenced  and  obeyed. 

What  embitters  the  common  accidents  of  life  to  most 
people  is,  their  entertaining  a  foolish  notion,  that  calami- 
ties are  unnatural,  and  that  we  have  a  right  to  the  plea- 
sures of  life.  Whereas  the  true  state  of  the  case  is,  that 
affliction  is  what  we  greatly  need,  and  richly  deserve,  and 
that  the  pleasures  of  life  are  the  mere  gift  of  God,  which 
therefore  he  may  withhold,  or  bestow,  as  he  sees  fit. 

The  use  of  reading  is,  to  settle  your  judgment ;  not  to 
confound  it  by  a  variety  of  opinions,  nor  to  enslave  it  by 
authority. 

If  you  will  not  listen  to  calm  reason,  take  care  lest  you 
be  made  to  feel  the  rod  of  severe  affliction.  If  God  loves 
you  he  will  drive  you  from  your  follies,  if  you  will  be 
drawn  from  them. 

If  you  are  ever  so  sure  that  you  ought  to  resent  an  in- 
jury, at  least  put  off  your  resentment  till  you  cool.  You 
will  gain  every  end  better  by  that  means,  and  can  lose 
nothing  by  going  cautiously  and  deliberately  to  work ; 
whereas  you  may  do  yourself,  or  your  neighbour,  great 
mischief,  by  proceeding  rashly  and  hastily. 

If  you  find  you  cannot  hold  your  own  with  the  world, 
without  making  shipwreck  of  conscience  and  integrity  ; 
retire  in  time  with  a  stock  of  honesty,  rather  than  continue 
in  business  to  retire  at  last  with  a  stock  of  wealth, 
which  will  not  yield  you  happiness  when  your  integrity  is 
gone. 

The  giver  is  the  creditor ;  the  receiver  the  debtor.  Had 
you  not  better  be  die  former  than  the  latter  ? 

Married  people  ought  to  consider,  that  the  keeping  up 
of  mutual  Jove  and  peace  is  of  more  consequence  than  any 


388  OF  VIRTUE. 

point,  which  either  the  one  or  the  other  can  want  to  gain, 
where  life  or  fortune  are  not  engaged.  Let  the  husband 
consider,  that  it  suits  his  superior  wisdom  to  yield  to  the 
weaker  in  ordinary  cases.  Let  the  wife  remember  she 
solemnly  promised  to  obey. 

The  devil  is  feared  and  hated. 

The  consciousness  of  having  acted  from  principle,  and 
without  the  praise  or  privity  of  any  person  whatever,  is  a 
pleasure  superior  to  all  that  applause  can  yield. 

Why  do  you  desire  riches  and  grandeur?  Because  you 
think  they  will  bring  happiness  with  them.  The  very 
thing  you  want  is  now  in  your  power.  You  have  only  to 
study  contentment. 

Don't  be  frighted  if  misfortune  stalks  into  your  humble 
habitation.  She  sometimes  takes  the  liberty  of  walking 
into  the  presence  chamber  of  kings. 

Be  open  with  prudence.  Be  artful  with  innocence  : 
Wise  as  the  serpent,  harmless  as  the  dove.  If  either  of 
these  two  qualities  must  predominate,  by  all  means  let  it 
be  the  latter. 

It  is  a  shameful  wickedness,  common  in  trade,  to  con- 
ceal the  faults,  or  artfully  heighten  the  good  qualities  of 
what  one  wants  to  sell,  or  to  disparage  any  article  one  has 
a  mind  to  buy,  in  order  to  have  it  the  cheaper.  That  tra- 
der, who  cannot  lay  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  and  say,  God, 
who  knows  all  things,  knows  1  use  my  neighbour  as  I 
would  wish  to  be  used,  is  no  other,  in  plain  English,  than 
a  downright  knave. 

To  love  a  woman  merely  for  her  beauty,  is  loving  a 
corpse  for  the  sake  of  its  being  covered  with  a  fair  skin. 
If  the  lovely  body  has  a  bad  soul  in  it,  it  becomes  then  an 
object  of  aversion,  not  of  affection. 

Never  think  yourself  out  of  danger  of  a  disorder  of 
body  by  sickness,  or  of  the  mind  by  passion. 

Those  who  have  not  courage  to  resist  fashion,  would  ill 
resist  tortures. 

j  Nothing  can  materially  hurt  you,  but  what  hurts  your 
virtue. 

When  we  hear  of  one  dead  suddenly,  we  are  surprised. 
Whereas  the  greater  wonder  is  that  "a  machine  of  sueh 
frail  materials,  and  exquisite  workmanship,  as  the  human 
body  is  should  hold  in  motion  for  an  hour  together. 


OF  VIRTUE.  389 

Let  a  man  consider  what  the  general  turn  of  his  thoughts 
is.  It  is  that  which  characterises  the  man.  He  who 
thinks  oftenest,  and  dwells  longest  on  worldly  things,  is 
an  earthly  man.  He  whose  mind  is  habitually  employed  in 
divine  contemplation,  is  a  heavenly  man. 

Absolute  resignation  to  the  Divine  disposal,  teaches 
neither,  to  desire  to  live  nor  to  die. 

In  proportion  to  the  grief  and  shame  which  a  bad  action 
would  have  caused  you,  such  will  be  your  joy  and  triumph 
on  reflecting  that  you  have  bravely  resisted  the  temptation. 

Are  not  the  great,  happiest  when  most  free  of  the  incum- 
brances of  greatness  ?  Is  there  any  happiness  in  greatness  ? 

Forgive  others  who  have  fallen,  and  be  on  your  guard 
lest  you  yourself  fall.  The  angels  in  heaven,  and  the 
first  of  our  species  in  innocence  have  fallen. 

The  hand  of  time  heals  all  diseases.  Human  nature 
cannot  long  continue  in  violent  anger,  grief,  or  distress  of 
any  kind.  Spare  yourself  immoderate  uneasiness.  The 
time  will  come,  when. all  these  things  which  now  engage 
you  so  much,  will  be,  as  if  they  never  had  been  ;  except 
your  own  character  for  virtue  or  vice. 

If  you  live  such  a  life,  that  you  may  be  able,  upon 
rational  grounds,  to  be  patient  at  the  last  hour,  when  y  out- 
near  friends  lose  all  patience,  you  will  show  yourself  a 
true  hero. 

Don't  be  uneasy  if  you  cannot  master  all  science.  You 
may  easily  know  enough  to  be  good  and  happy. 

He  who  suffers  lust  to  steal  away  his  youth,  ambition 
his  manhood,  and  avarice  his  old  age,  may  lament  too 
late,  the  shortness  of  the  useful  part  of  his  life. 

If  you  have  a  family,  it  is  no  more  allowable,  that  you 
squander,  away  yoursubstance,  than  for  a  steward  to  embez- 
zle the  state  of  which  he  is  manager.  You  are  appointed 
steward  to  your  children  ;  and  if  you  neglect  to  provide 
for  them,  be  it  at  your  peril. 

A  truly  great  mind,  from  mere  reverence  for  itself, 
would  not  descend  to  think  a  base  thought,  if  it  was  never 
to  be  known  to  God  or  man. 

This  book  is  not  likely  to  be  read  by  any,  whose  station 
in  life  is  not  such,  that  thousands  and  millions  of  mankind 
would  think  worthy  of  envy.  It  will  then  be  very  strange, 
i  f  it  should  be  read  by  any  discontented  person. 


390  OF  VIRTUE. 

lie  that  has  no  shame,  has  no  grace. 

Before  you  think  of  retiring  from  the  world,  be  sure 
that  you  are  fit  for  retirement.  In  order  to  which,  it  is 
necessary  that  you  have  a  mind  so  composed  by  prudence, 
reason,  and  religion,  that  it  may  bear  being  looked  into! 
a  turn  to  rural  life  ;  and  a  love  for  study. 

He  who  is  free  from  any  immediate  distress,  and  cannot 
be  happy  now,  it  is  in  vain  for  him  to  think  he  ever  shall, 
unless  he  changes  the  temper  of  his  mind,  which  is  what 
hinders  his  happiness  at  present. 

Do  not  grieve  for  him  who  is  departed  out  of  a  trouble- 
some and  dangerous  state  into  a  better.  If  a  relation,  or 
nn  acquaintance,  is  gone  into  the  other  world,  wholly 
unprepared  for  it,  his  case  is  truly  lamentable. 

The  advantage  our  passions  have  over  us,  is  owing  to 
ourselves.  We  may  easily  gain  such  a  knowledge  oi  our 
own  weakness,  as  to  feel  them  rising  before  thev  be  got  to 
the  height :  And  it  is  our  own  fault  if  we  do  not  restrain 
them  in  time. 

The  most  violent  shaking  will  no  shake  the  limpid  water 
in  a  glass  muddy  :  But  a  little  disturbance  will  defile  that 
m  the  well,  or  river.  If  it  were  not  for  the  impurity  of  the 
mind  itself,  the  shock  of  temptation  would  have  no  effect. 

VV  hoever  knows  his  own  weaknesses,  and  has  the  sense 
to  endeavour  to  get  rid  of  them,  will  find  himself  as  fully 
employed,  m  his  own  mind,  as  a  physician  in  an  hospital. 

It  may  not  be  in  your  power  to  excel  manv  people  in 
riches,  honours,  or  abilities :  But  vou  may  excel  thou- 
sands  m  what  is  incomparablv  more  valuable,  I  mean  sub- 
stantml  goodness  of  heart  and  life.  Hither  turn  your 
ambitiom     Here  is  an  object  worthy  of  it. 

Nothing  is  of  any  value  to  vou  that  you  make  a  bad 
use  of. 

You  cannot,  you  say,  find  time  to  examine  yourself, 
whether  you  are  prepared  for  death.  It  is  no  matter,  you 
must  find  time  to  die. 

It  is  no  matter  what  you  spend  your  life  in,  if  you 
neglect  the  very  business  of  life. 

You  may  acquire  great  knowledge,  and  be  the  worse 
for  it  at  last; 

Don't  think  of  giving  a  shilling,  while  vou  owe  a  pound. 
bhall  hypocrisy  get  footing  among  christians  ?    And 


OF  VIRTUE.  391 

shall  a  heathen  have  the  character  of  having  rather  desir- 
ed to  be  virtuous  than'to  be  thought  so? 

I  know  no  sight  more  nauseous  than  that  of  a  fond  hus- 
band and  wife,  who  have  not  the  sense  to  behave  properly 
to  one  another  before  company :  Nor  any  conversation 
more  shocking  than  that  of  a  snarling  couple,  who  are 
continually  girding  at.  one  another. 

Consider  how  uncommon  it  is  to  live  to  old  age  :  and 
take  care  to  hold  yourself  in  constant  readiness  for  death. 

The  unthinking  bulk  of  mankind  are  ever  amusing 
themselves  with  some  pursuit  foreign  to  themselves.  A 
wise  man  is  ever  looking  inward. 

It  is  no  wonder  if  he  who  reads,  converses  and  medi- 
tates, improves  in  knowledge.  By  the  first,  a  man  con- 
verses with  the  dead  ;  by  the  second,  with  the  living  ;  and 
by  the  third,  with  himself.  So  that  he  appropriates  to 
himself  all  the  knowledge  which  can  be  got  from  those 
who  have  lived,  and  from  those  now  alive. 

Let  no  man  refuse  a  pardon  to  others,  but  he  who  does 
not  need  it  for  himself. 

A  very  ignorant  man  may  have  a  very  learned  library. 
A  very  learned  man  may  be  a  very  contemptible  creature. 

If  it  were  safe  to  put  off  repentance  and  reformation  to 
the  very  last  day  of  life,  how  do  you  know  this  is  not  it  ? 

Endeavour  to  do  all  the  good  in  your  power.  Be  as 
active  with  prudence,  as  if  you  was  sure  of  success. 
When  you  meet  a  disappointment,  let  it  not  abate  your 
diligence,  nor  put  you  out  of  humour.  And  when  you 
have  done  all,  remember  you  have  only  done  your  duty. 

The  Dutch  will  not  suffer  the  smallest  breach  in  their 
dykes  for  fear  of  an  inundation.  Do  not  you  suffer  the 
smallest  passage  for  vice  into  your  heart,  lest  you  find 
your  virtue  quite  overflowed. 

Do  not  be  unhappy  if  you  have  not  married  a  professed 
beauty.  They  generally  admire  themselves  so  much  they 
have  no  love  left  for  their  husbands.  Besides,  it  might 
not  perhaps  have  been  very  agreeable  to  you,  to  see  every 
fellow,  as  you  went  into  public  places,  look  at  your  wife, 
as  if  he  could  devour  her  with  his  eyes. 

Take  no  counsel  with  flesh  and  blood,  if  you  aspire  at 
what  is  truly  p-reat. 

A  foolish  youth  makes  a  crazy  old  age. 


SJ92  OF  VIRTUE. 

Take  care  of  natural  biasses,  as  self-love,  pleasure, 
&c.  Be  sure,  you  will  always  incline  enough  toward  the 
biass  side.  Therefore,  you  need  have  no  guard  upon 
yourseif  that  way. 

The  angels  are  said  in  Scripture  to  desire  to  look  into 
the  Christian  scheme,  as  if  to  learn  somewhat.  Do  not 
vou  then  think  it  beneath  you  to  learn,  while  vou  are  so 
much  inferior  to  them.  The  most  knowing  are  the  most 
desirous  of  knowledge.  The  most  virtuous  the  most 
desirous  oi  improvement  in  virtue.  On  the  contrary,  the 
ignorant  think  themselves  wise  enough ;  the  vicious  are 
in  their  own  opinion  good  enough. 

In  bestirring  yourself  for  the  public  advantage,  remem- 
ber, that  if  you  should  not  accomplish  all  that  you  pro- 
pose, you  will  however  have  employed  yourself  to  good 
purpose,  and  will  not  fail  of  your  reward,  if  you  should 
of  success. 

Let  no  man  complain  of  the  shortness  of  life,  but  he 
who  can  say  he  has  never  mispent  one  hour. 

Make  sure  first,  «and  principally,  of  that  knowledge, 
which  is  necessary  for  you  as  a  man,  and  a  member  of 
society.  Next,  of  what  is  necessary  in  your  particular 
way  of  life.  Afterwards,  improve  yourself  in  all  useful  and 
ornamental  knowledge,  as  far  as  your  capacity,  leisure, 
and  fortune  will  allow. 

If  you  would  not  have  affliction  visit  you  twice,  listen 
at  once  to  what  it  teaches. 

Never  cast  your  eye  upon  a  good  man,  without  resolv- 
ing to  imitate  him.  Whenever  you  see  an  instance  of  vice 
or  folly  in  another,  let  it  be  a  warning  to  you  to  avoid  them. 

Where  is  yesterday  now  ?  With  the  years  before  the 
flood.  But  if  you  have  employed  it  well,  it  stands  record- 
ed above  to  your  eternal  honour  and  advantage.  If  you 
Have  mispent  or  neglected  it,  it  will  appear  against  you  at 
the  last  day. 

Wouid  you  have  one  general  universal  remedy  for  all 
diseases,  study  religion.  The  only  rational  ground  for 
consolation  in  the  van  jus  distresses  of  life,  is  the  consider- 
ation, that  religion  proposes  a  positive  reward  for  bearing 
with  dignity,  and  improving  by  affliction,  and  that  afflic- 
tions are  in  truth  our  «  :  igs  and  proofs  of  the 
Divine  favour. 


OF4  VIRTUE.  393 

If  you  unhappily  fall  into  some  fatal  miscarriage,  which 
wounds  your  conscience,  and  makes  your  life  a  burden, 
confess  it,  with  all  its  circumstances,  to  some  judicious 
and  tender-hearted  person,  in  whose  fidelity  you  can  con* 
fide,  and  whose  advice  may  be  of  service  to  you.  If  it 
be  of  such  a  peculiar  nature,  that  you  do  not  think  it  pru- 
dent, to  confess  yourself  guilty  of  such  a  thing,  send  a 
full  account  of  it,  written  in  a  disguised  hand,  desiring 
an  answer  in  writing.  When  you  have  the  opinion  of  a 
judicious  person  upon  the  heinousness  of  your  crime> 
which  you  may  find  you  have  either,  through  self-love 
thought  too  slightly  of,  or  through  an  excessive  tenderness 
of  conscience,  blamed  yourself  too  much  for,  impress 
your  mind  properly  with  a  sense  of  your  fault :  humble 
yourself  deeply  before  God  ;  and  resolve  bravely  no  more 
to  be  guilty  of  such  folly.  When  you  have  done  so,  and 
find  you  can  keep  to  your  resolutions,  it  is  not  necessary 
that  you  continue  to  afflbt  yourself  without  end  for  what 
is  irrecoverably  past.  The  principal  part  of  repentance 
is  reformation. 

I  know  no  way  of  laying  out  a  few  shillings  to  more 
advantage,  either  for  profit  or  pleasure,  than  upon  an  enter- 
taining and  instructing  book.  But  this  expence  is  greatly 
overdone  by  some,  and  ill  laid  out  by  others. 

While  you  are  unhappy  because  your  tailor  has  not  cut 
your  coat  to  your  mind,  many  an  honest  man  would  be 
glad  to  have  one  that  would  only  keep  out  the  cold,  and 
cannot.  While  you  are  in  a  passion  with  your  cook,  be- 
cause he  has  spoiled  you  one  dish  among  six,  many  a 
poor  family,  who  are  fellow-creatures,  and  your  fellow 
Christians,  are  at  a  loss  for  bread  to  supply  the  wants  of 
nature.  Think  of  this,  and  give  over  with  shame  your 
foolish  and  impious  complaints  against  that  goodness  of 
Providence,  which  has  placed  you  in  circumstances  so 
much  above  persons  of  equal  merit  with  yourself. 

It  is  the  unhappiness  of  human  life,  that  in  every  man's 
conduct  there  has  alwavs  been  some  miscarriage,  or  some 
misfortune  in  his  circumstances,  which  has  prevented  his 
carrying  his  improvements  in  knowledge  and  virtue  the 
length  which  might  have  been  wished  or  imagined.  To 
make  the  most  of  life,  such  a  number  of  concurrences  are  ne- 
cessary, that  it  is  no  wonder  rhey  seldom  all  fall  to  the  share 

3  D 


394,  OF  VIRTUE. 

of  any  one  person.  Health,  long  life,  fortune  ;  great  and 
various  natural  abilities,  and  a  good  disposition  ;  an  ex- 
tensive education,  begun  early  ;  indefatigable  diligence  to 
carry  on  improvements;  a  set  of  acquaintance  capable  of 
assisting  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  and  of  encouraging 
in  virtue  ;  and  happening  to  live  in  an  age  favourable  to 
freedom  of  inquiry.  If  we  consider  the  improvements 
some  towering  geniuses  have  made  in  knowledge,  and  the 
lengths  gone  in  exemplary  virtue  by  many  who  have  la- 
boured under  innumerable  disadvantages,  we  cannot  help 
lamenting,  that  they  were  not  favoured  by  Providence  with 
the  others,  nor  imagining  what  immense  heights  they  must 
in  some  circumstances,  have  reached.  The  most  remark- 
able concurrence  of  all  kinds  of  advantages  that  ever  was  ; 
and  the  most  stupendous  effects  in  consequence  of  it,  will 
probably,  as  long  as  this  world  lasts,  be  the  admiration  and 
delight  of  all  who  are  judges  of  the  sublime  labours  of  the 
greatest  of  philosophers,  and  best  of  men,  the  glory  of  our 
country,  and  of  Human  Nature.  Yet  even  in  him  (though 
a  sort  of  superior  being,  when  compared  with  the  rest  of 
the  species,)  it  is  possible  to  imagine  some  circumstances 
different,  and  to  the  advantage.  To  what  heights  then 
ma)-  our  nature  rise  in  future  states,  when  every  possible 
advantage  shall  concur ! 

Do  not  pretend  to  neglect  or  trifle  with  your  duty,  un- 
less you  have  found  out  unquestionable  and  demonstrative 
proof,  that  the  general  sense  of  mankind  in  all  ages  and  na- 
tions, that  virtue  is  the  perfection  of  Human  Nature,  and 
the  sure  way  to  happiness,  and  vice  the  contrary,  is  a  gross 
absurdity  and  falshood  ;  that  the  Bible  is  a  forgery  ;  and 
that  the  belief  of  a  judgment  to  come  is  a  dream.  If  you 
be  not  as  sure  of  all  this,  as  that  twice  two  are  four,  if  there 
be  the  smallest  possibility  that  it  may  be  otherwise,  it  is 
the  very  desperation  of  madness  to  run  the  least  hazard  of 
the  destruction  of  your  soul  by  living;  a  wicked  life. 

Death-bed  repentance,  and  death-bed  charity,  are  much 
of  a  kind.  Men  give  up  their  vices  and  their  money 
when  they  can  keep  them  no  longer. 

.  Can  any  person  seriously  think  that  he  was  formed  ca- 
pable of  reason,  virtue,  and  religion,  only  to  eat,  drink, 
divert  himself,  and  die  ? 

Accustom  yourself  to  the  strict  observance  of  your  duty 


OF  VIRTUE.  395 

in  all  respects,  and  it  will  in  time  be  as  troublesome  to 
omit,  or  to  violate  it,  as  it  is  to  many  people  to  practise  it. 

Study  to  grow  every  day  wiser  and  better  :  For  every 
day  brings  you  nearer  to  death. 

It  is  strange  to  hear  unthinking  people  descant  upon  the 
actions  of  men  of  universally  acknowledged  abilities,  and 
to  see  them  take  it  for  granted,  that  they  have  acted  a  part 
entirely  inconsistent  with  their  known  characters  ;  which 
people  very  rarely  do,  and  which  it  is  therefore  very  un- 
reasonable to  suppose.  If  you  were  told  of  a  miser's 
having  done  a  generous  thing,  would  you  not  be  apt  either 
to  doubt  the  fact,  or  to  conclude,  that  it  must  have  appear- 
ed to  him  a  likely  way  of  getting  somewhat  ?  If  you  were 
told  of  a  very  passionate  man's  bearing  an  insult  with  ex- 
emplary patience,  would  you  not  be  surprised?  Why  then 
should  you  rashly  give  into  the  belief,  that  a  person,  whose 
good  understanding  you  are  apprized  of,  has  played  the 
fool"?  on  one,  whose  integrity  is  known  to  you,  has  acted 
a  treacherous  part  ?  Hearthe  accused  before  you  condemn. 

Value  learning  as  much  as  you  please.  But  remem- 
ber, a  judicious  thinker  is  incomparably  superior  to  a  great 
reader. 

What  can  be  more  monstrous  than  the  common  excu- 
ses for  unfaithfulness  to  the  marriage -bed?  People  give 
their  vows  to  one  another  in  the  most  solemn  manner; 
and  then  their  first  work  is  to  think  how  to  break  them. 
They  marry  for  better  for  worse ;  for  richer  or  poorer, 
younger  or  older  ;  handsomer  or  plainer.  And  then,  when 
they  come  to  repent  of  their  rash  choice,  they  pretend  to 
excuse  the  breach  of  solemn  vows  by  the  pretext  of  de- 
fects they  find  in  one  another ;  of  which  it  is  wholly  their 
own  fault  if  they  were  not  sufficiently  apprized  before  their 
coming  together. 

To  defeat  calumny,  1.  Despise  it.  To  seem  disturbed 
about  it,  is  the  way  to  make  it  be  believed.  And  scab- 
bing your  defamer  will  not  prove  you  innocent.  2.  Live 
an  exemplary  life,  and  then  your  general  good  character 
will  overpower  it.  3.  Speak  tenderly  of  every  body,  even 
of  your  defamers,  and  you  will  make  the  whole  world  cry, 
Shame  on  them  who  can  find  in  their  hearts  to  injure  one 
so  inoffensive. 

You  say,  your  misfortunes  are  hard  to  bear.     Your 


396  of  virtue; 

vices  are  likewise  hard  to  be  forgiven,  It  is  terrible  to 
think  of  your  suffering  pain,  sickness,  poverty,  or  the 
loss  of  dear  friends  or  relations  ?  It  is  more  terrible  to 
think  of  your  having  offended  the  infinitely  great  and 
good  Creator,  Preserver,  and  Judge  of  the  world,  jour 
kind  and  bountiful  Father  and  best  Friend.  Is  pain  a  great 
evil  ?  Vice  is  a  greater.  It  is  rebellion  against  the  Supreme 
Authority  of  the  universe.  Is  the  loss  of  a  beloved  wife 
like  tearing  limb  from  limb  *  So  is  falshood,  cruelty,  or 
ingratitude,  like  unhinging  the  universe,  and  bringing 
chaos  back  again :  For  they  tend  to  universal  disorder, 
and  the  destruction  of  the  creation  of  God.  Do  you  shud- 
der at  the  thought  of  poverty  or  disease  ?  Think  with  what 
eye  Infinite  Purity  must  behold  wickedness  ?  with  what 
abhorrence  absolute  Perfection  must  see  the  ruin  produced 
in  his  works  by  irregularity  and  vice.  Do  you  desire  to 
escape  misery  ?  Fly  from  sin.  Do  you  wish  to  avoid 
punishment?  Above  all  things  avoid  wickedness,  the  cause 
of  it. 


THE 

DIGNITY 

OF 

HUMAN  NATURE 

BOOK  IV. 

OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 


INTRODUCTION. 

X  HAT  it  is  in  itself  agreeable  to  rectitude,  necessary 
to  the  Dignity  of  Human  Nature,  and  the  Requisite  con- 
currence of  moral  agents  with  the  general  scheme  of  the 
Governor  of  the  universe,  that  we  study  above  all  things 
to  perform  our  whole  duty,  viz.  Taking  proper  care  of 
our  bodies  and  of  our  minds,  loving  our  fellow  creatures 
as  ourselves,  and  loving  and  serving  our  Creator ;  that 
this  is  our  indispensable  duty,  and  that  the  habitual  neg- 
lect, or  violation  of  it,  upon  whatever  pretence,  will  ex- 
pose us  to  the  Divine  displeasure,  as  the  conscientious 
observance  of  it  is  most  likely  to  gain  us  his  favour,  and 
consequently  final  happiness ;  all  this  appears  clear  to  hu- 
man reason,  separate  from  any  consideration  of  the  truth 
of  revelation,  and  deducible  from  universally  acknowl- 
edged principles. — And  if  it  may  be  supposed  in  the  low- 
est degree  probable,  that  the  kind  and  merciful  Parent  of 
his  creatures,  who  would  have  all  men  to  be  saved,  and, 
in  a  consistency  with  eternal  and  immutable  rectitude,  to 
come  to  that  happiness,  of  which  their  nature  was  formed 
capable ;  if  it  mav  be  conceived  irt  the  lowest  degree  prob- 
able, that  God  should  from  the  beginning  have  ordered 


398  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

things  so,  that  one  method,  among  others,  for  promoting 
universal  goodness  and  happiness,  should  be,  the  appear- 
ance of  an  express  message,  or  revelation  from  himself, 
with  a  set  of  clearer  and  more  striking  instructions,  than 
had  been  any  other  way  communicated  to  mankind  ;  if 
this  be  conceivable  without  any  direct  absurdity,  then  it 
is  likewise  evident  from  the  principles  of  natural  religion 
or  reason,  that  it  is  the  indispensable  duty  of  all  those-  of 
our  species,  to  whom  any  such  supposed  Divine  message 
or  revelation,  may  be  offered,  to  bestow  the  utmost  dili- 
gence in  examining  its  pretensions,  and,  if  found  sufficient, 
to  admit  them  with  candor  and  sincerity  of  mind,  and  to 
receive  the  revelation  itself  with  that  veneration  and  sub- 
mission, which  it  becomes  dependent  creatures  to  express 
to  Him  who  sent  it. 

That  there  is  nothing  directly*  absurd,  or  contradictory  to 
reason,  in  the  supposition  of  the  possibility  of  a  revelation 
given  from  God,  for  the  reformation  and  improvement  of 
mankind,  is  evident  from  its  having  been  the  opinion 
and  the  hope  of  the  wisest  and  best  of  mankind,  in  all  ages 
and  various  nations.  Socrates,  Plato,  Confucius,  and 
others,  the  bright  and  burning  lights  of  antiquity,  have 
given  their  authority  to  the  opinion  of  the  probability  of 
a  revelation  from  God.  They  have  declared,  that  they 
thought  it  an  affair  of  great  consequence  to  re- kindle  the 
light  of  reason,  almost  extinguished  by  vice  and  folly  ;  recal 
a  bewildered  race  of  beings  into  the  way  of  virtue,  to  teach 
mankind,  with  certainty  and  authority,  how  they  ought  to 
behave  toward  their  Creator,  so  as  to  obtain  his  favour, 
and  the  pardon  of  their  offences.  They  who  were  the 
best  qualified  of  all  uninspired  men  of  those  ancient  times 
for  instructing  mankind,  were  ready  to  own  themselves 
insufficient  for  the  task  of  reforming  the  world.  And 
it  is  notorious,  that  their  worthy  labours  were  in  no  respect 
adequate  to  the  universal,  or  general  amendment  of  man- 
ners, even  in  the  countries  in  which  they  lived  and  taught. 
For  that  themselves  greatly  wanted  instruction,  appears 
plait ly  from  what  they  have  writ  upon  some  of  the  most 
important  points  of  morals,  as  the  immortality  of  the  soul ; 
the  nature,  degree,  and  continuance  of  the  rewards  and 
puvlshments  of  the  future  state,  ana  '.he  means  of  obtain- 
ing *he  pardon  of  sin.     And  that  their  lessons  should  have 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  399 

any  considerable  or  powerful  influence  upon  the  people  in 
general,  was  not  to  be  expected,  as  they  could  at  best  but 
give  them  as  their  opinions  ;  reasonable  indeed,  and  clear 
in  the  main,  to  any  understanding,  which  should  take  the 
trouble  to  examine  ;  but  backed  with  no  authoritative 
sanction,  or  Divine  attestation,  to  command  attention  and 
obedience. 

It  is  evident,  that,  as  there  can  be,  on  one  hand,  no  merit 
in  believing  what  is  true,  even  religious  truth,  without 
examination  ;  (for  nothing  is  virtuous,  or  praise- worthy, 
that  is  irrational ;  and  it  is  irrational  to  receive  for  truth 
what  one  has  no  solid  reason  to  think  is  true)  so  on  the 
other,  to  reject  truth,  especially  religious  truth,  on  any 
indirect  or  disingenuous  account,  or  for  any  reason,  besides 
some  unsurmountable  inconsistency  in  the  doctrine,  or  de- 
ficiency in  the  evidence,  is  perverse  and  wicked.  The  faith, 
therefore,  that  is  acceptable  to  God,  who  isalike  the  Author 
of  both  reason  and  revelation,  is  that  rational  reception 
of  religious  truth,  which  arises  from  candid  and  diligent 
examination,  and  a  due  submission  to  Divine  Authority. 
And  the  unbelief,  which  is  condemned  in  Scripture,  is 
that  rejection  of  the  revealed  will  of  God,  which  is  owing 
to  prejudice,  negligence,  pride,  or  a  fatal  attachment  to 
vice. 

The  guilt  of  wilfully  rejecting  or  opposing  Divine 
truth  must  be  more  or  less  atrocious,  according  as  the 
advantges  for  inquiry,  and  satisfaction  upon  the  subject, 
are  greater,  or  less.  The  inhabitants  of  the  dark  and  bar- 
barous parts  of  the  world,  and  even  of  the  countries,  which 
are  over-run  by  Popish  stuperstition  will  therefore  be 
found  more  excusable  for  their  deficiencies  both  in  faith 
and  practice,  than  we  of  this  enlightened  age,  and  nation, 
who  enjoy  every  imaginable  advantage  for  free  enquiry, 
and  labour  under  no  kind  of  bias  either  toward  credulity 
or  the  contrary,  but  what  we  choose  to  subject  ourselyesto. 

Besides  our  being  indispensably  obliged,  in  point  of 
duty,  to  take  the  utmost  care,  that  a  genuine  revelation 
from  God  do  not  meet  with  neglect,  much  less  disin- 
genuous opposition,  from  us  ;  it  is  also  to  be  considered, 
what  conduct  wisdom  prescribes  in  such  a  case.  Were 
there  no  guilt  in  treating  revelation  with  contempt,  or 
opposing,  yet  no^man  of  prudence  would  wilfully  deprive 


400  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

himself  of  any  probable  advantage  for  information  and 
improvement,  from  whatever  quarter  it  might  come.  Nor 
■will  any  wise  man  think  lightly  of  a  scheme  intended,  as 
Divine  revelation  is,  for  the  important  ends  of  republish- 
ings  with  a  set  of  authoritative  sanctions,  the  religion  of 
nature,  and  fixing  beyond  all  dispute  the  duty  of  mankind, 
and  the  means  for  attaining  their  greatest  happiness;  and 
for  communicating  to  them  various  important  truths  not 
known  before,  nor  discoverable  by  human  reason.  That 
revelation  has  effectually  done  these  things,  will  appear  by 
the  general  view  of  it,  that  will  be  exhibited  in  the  second 
section. 

A  direct,  explicit  law,  given  by  Divine  authority,  is 
the  very  thing  which  such  a  short-sighted,  and  imperfect 
order  of  beings  as  mankind,  were  perculiarly  in  want  of. 
Nor  is  any  method  so  fit  for  governing  a  set  of  creatures 
generally  unqualified  for  reasoning  out,  with  a  proper  clear- 
ness and  certainty,  the  means  of  attaining  happiness,  as  a 
distinct  system  of  rules  of  conduct  guarded  by  proper 
sanctions.  Is  not  all  human  government  constituted  on 
that  foundation  ?  When  a  new  state  or  colony  is  to  be  set- 
tled, do  the  founders  trust  to  the  reason  of  a  "mixed  multi- 
tude for  the  observance  of  equity,  the  security  of  property, 
and  happiness  of  the  whole  ?  And  was  it  not'  a  more  effec- 
tual way  to  lead  mankind  to  the  love  of  God,  and  one 
another,  to  give  them  an  express  law  to  that  purpose, 
than  to  leave  it  to  their  own  reasonings,  to  find  out  their 
Creator,  and  to  one  another,  and  whether  they  might  trifle 
With  it,  or  resolve  faithfully  to  perform  it  ?  Therefore  man- 
kind have  probably,  in  no  age  been  wholly  left  to  their 
own  reason  :  but  a  standing  positive  institution  has  all 
along  been  kept  up  in  one  part  of  the  world,  or  other  ;  and 
would  in  all  probability  have  been  more  universally,  as 
Well  as  more  conspicuously  established  ;  but  for  the  wick- 
edness of  mankind,  which  rendered  them  unworthy  of 
partaking  universally  of  this  blessing,  and  occasioned  its 
being  imparted  to  them  in  a  more  obscure  and  limited 
manner. 

We  arc  at  present  in  a  state  of  discipline ;  and  every 
tiling  is  intended  as  a  part  of  our  trial,  and  means  of  im- 
provement. Revelation  may  be  considered  in  the  same 
light.     A  message  from  heaven  is  brought  to  our  cars. 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  401 

attended  with  such  evidence,  as  may  be  sufficient  to  con- 
vince the  unprejudiced  mind  of  its  being  genuine  ;  but  at 
the  same  time  not  so  ascertained,  but  that  pretences  tor 
cavilling  at,  and  opposing  it,  may,  by  disingenuous  men, 
be  found.  If  this  gives  an  opportunity  lor  the  exercise  of 
honest  inquiry,  and  exhibits  in  the  fairest  light  the  di:  er- 
ent  characters  of  the  sincere,  but  cautious,  and  inquisitive 
lover  of  truth  ;  of  the  indolent,  unthinking,  and  credulous, 
who  believes  with  the  multitude  ;  and  of  the  perverse  and 
disingenuous,  who  rejects  whatever  is  not  suitable  to  his 
wa\  s  of  thinking  or  living  ;  if  revelation  does  these  things, 
is  it  notto  be  reckoned  one  of  the  noblest  trials  of  the  present 
state  ?  And  is  it  not  promulgated  in  the  very  manner  it 
ought  to  have  been  ?  , 

Standing  oracles  were  probably  some  of  the  first  methods 
which  the  Divine  Wisdom  made  use  of  to  communicate 
particular  express  information  to  mankind.  There  was 
an  appointed  place,  to  which  worshippers  resorted,  and 
consulting,  received  answers,  and  directions.  Spiritual 
beings  were  employed  in  revealing  the  Divine  Will  to 
mankind.  And.  in  visions  and  dreams,  communications 
were  given  to  men  of  characters  eminent  for  virtue  and 
piety.  A  race  of  prophets,  or  persons  under  Divine  In- 
fluence, succeeding  to  one  another,  so  as  there  should  be 
no  long  period  without  one  or  more  such  inspired  men, 
kept  up  an  impression  of  the  superintendency  of  God,  and 
of  the  necessity  of  obedience  to  Him.  But  we  know  of 
no  method  so  proper  for  communicating  to  mankind  in 
general,  a  set  of  useful  informations  ;  so  as  to  be  of  lasting, 
constant,  and  extensive  advantage  to  them,  as  their  being 
committed  to  writing,  by  which  means  they  are  easily  ac- 
cessible to  all,  to  be  consulted  at  all  times  and  in  all  places. 

The  revelation,  therefore,  with  which  we  are  blessed, 
has  been,  by  the  Divine  Providence  directed  to  be  penned 
by  Moses,  the  Prophets,  and  Apostles;  and  has  been  won- 
derfully preserved  for  many  ages,  free,  for  any  thing  we 
know,  or  have  reason  to  suspect,  from  material  corrup- 
tions and  alterations  ;  and  in  it  we  have  all  informations  ne- 
cessary for  our  conduct  here,  and  happiness  hereafter. 

Whoever  chooses  to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  his  inquiry 
as  wide  as  possible,  may  examine  the  several  schemes  of 
religion,  which  have  pretended  to  a  Divine  Original,  and 

3  E 


402  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

by  comparing-  them  together,  he  will  soon  find  which  bears 
the  characters  of  being  truly  from  heaven. 

As  to  us,  who  live  in  these  happy  realms  of  knowledge 
and  freedom  of  inquiry,  the  religion  contained  in  the 
scripture  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  offers  itself 
more  immediately,  and  challenges  our  chief  and  most  at- 
tentive examination  ;  it  is  therefore  evident,  that  it  lies  im- 
mediately upon  us  to  inquire  into  its  pretensions  ;  and  that 
we  may  more  safely  neglect  all  the  others  ;  none  of  which 
the  Divine  Providence  has  given  us  so  fair  an  opportunity 
of  examining,  or  made  so  clearly  our  duty  to  inquire  into. 
But  to  inquire  into  religion  in  an  impartial  manner,  a  man 
must  begin  with  shaking  off  all  prejudice,  from  education 
and  general  opinion,  and  must  suppose  himself  a  mere  un- 
principled Indian,  not  biassed  to  any  species  of  religion 
in  the  world.  He  must  likewise  resolve  to  go  through  the 
whole  of  what  he  is  to  examine  ;  not  contenting  himself 
with  a  partial  and  imperfect  view  of  things,  which  is  the 
way  to  acquire  imperfect  and  mistaken  notions.  He  must 
also  go  directly  to  the  fountain,  if  he  would  know  the  true 
virtues  of  the  water  of  life  ;  that  is,  he  must,  to  know  the 
religion  of  the  scriptures,  go  directly  to  the  scriptures, 
and  study  them  more  than  all  the  systems  or  bodies  of 
divinity  in  the  world. 

There  is  no  greater  hindrance  to  the  candid  examina- 
tion and  ready  reception  of  so  pure  and  strict  a  scheme  of 
religion  as  the  christian,  than  a  fatal  attachment  to  vice. 
This  was  the  original  obstacle,  which  retarded  its  estab- 
lishment in  the  world,  at  its  first  appearance  ;  has  prevent- 
ed its  progress  ever  since  ;  has  disguised  and  deformed  its 
native  beauty  ;  has  almost  wholly  defeated  its  genuine  in- 
tention, in  one  church  ;  and  raised  enemies  against  it,  even 
in  this  land  of  light,  in  an  age  immediately  succeeding  to 
the  times,  in  which  it  stood  the  examination  of  the  ablest 
inquirers,  and  came  out  established  upon  a  more  rational 
foundation,  than  ever  it  stood  upon,  from  the  apostolic 
age  downwards."  It  will  therefore  be  necessary,  above  all 
things,  for  the  inquirer  into  the  truth  of  Christianity,  to 
purge  his  mind  from  every  corrupt  affection,  that  may 
prompt  him  to  wish  to  find  it  suspicious  or  false  ;  to  take 
no  counsel  with  flesh  and  blood;  bet  to  labour  to  work 
himself  up  to  that  pitch  of  heavenly-mindedness,  which  it 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  403 

requires  ;  that  so  he  may  not  only  be  wholly  unprejudiced 
against  it,  but  may  be  supposed  to  listen  to  reason  in  its 
favour,  and  may  find  within  himself  a  witness  to  its  truth. 


SECTIOM  I. 

Previous   Objections  against  a  Revelation  in  general,  and 
that  of  Scripture  in  particular,  considered. 

A  revelation  had  not  been  given  to  mankind,  had  there 
been  no  need  of  it,  in  such  a  sense  as  that  it  must  prove 
wholly  useless.  But  the  question  is,  whether  it  is  not  an 
absurdity  to  talk  of  a  genuine  revelation's  being  needless, 
or  useless.  Can  any  thing  be  said  to  be  needless,  or  use- 
less that  is  calculated  to  improve  mankind?  Ifasctof 
moral  instructions  from  one  person  will  be  of  any  service 
to  me,  can  it  be  said,  that  more  of  the  same  kind  will  be 
useless  ?  if  I  had  already  digested  all  the  knowledge,  that 
is  to  be  got  in  books,  and  by  conversation  with  the  wise 
and  learned  of  my  own  species,  would  the  conversation  of 
a  superior  being  be  needless  and  useless  to  me  ?  Nav,  if 
the  archangel  Gabriel  had  in  his  power  to  receive  some 
new  informations  by  revelation  from  God,  would  he  neg- 
lect them,  as  needless  and  useless,  because  his  knowledge 
is  already  immensely  extensive  ?  Those  objectors  to  reve- 
lation, who  talk  of  its  being  unnecessary,  do  not  seem  to 
have  clear  ideas  to  their  words.  For  if  they  had,  they 
never  would  think  of  limiting  the  Divine  goodness  to  his 
creatures,  or  of  alleging,  that  their  advantages  for  happi- 
ness were  too  great.  Nor  would  one  think  that  revela- 
tion should  ever  have  been  looked  on  as  superfluous,  by 
any  person  who  knew  the  world ;  but  on  the  contrary,  that 
all  such  would  readilv  acknowledge,  that  if  it  were  possi- 
ble to  have  yet  another  additional  revelation,  or  advantage 
for  virtue,  mankind  would  not  then  be  at  all  too  good. 
Nor  can  any  one  help  seeing  the  real  eventual  advantage 
of  revelation,  who  knows  any  thing  of  the  difference  be- 
tween the  condition,  as  to  knowledge  and  virtue,  of  those 
ages  and  nations,  which  have,  and  those  which  have  not 
enjoyed  the  light  of  it.  And  here  it  is  to  be  remembered 
that  in  all  probability  it  is  a  very  small  part  of  our  knowl- 
edge that  is  the  genuine  acquisition  of  mere  human  reason, 
wholly  unassisted.     The  very  use  of  letters  seems  to  have 


404  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

pretensions  to  a  greater  author  than  Cadmus,  or  than  Mo. 
ses.  And  probably  the  whole  of  the  religious  knowledge 
wt  possess,  is  originally  owing  to  revelation. 

The  deplorable  darkness  and  ignorance,  in  which  those 
of  our  species  are  found  involved,  who  have  lived  de- 
tached from  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  have  never  enjoyed, 
or  have  wholly  lost,  all  traces  of  revealed  knowledge  (if 
that  be  really  the  case  of  any  people,  which  is  to  be  doubt- 
ed, is  a  proof  of  the  advantage  of  revelation.  And  it  is 
only  from  what  we  find  to  be  the  case  of  those  newly  disco- 
vered nations,  who  have  undoubtedly  few  supernatural  ad- 
van' ages,  that  we  can  fairly  judge,  what  the  state  of  man- 
kind in  general  would  have  been,  if  the  species  had  been 
left  wholly  to  themselves.  For,  as  to  this  hide  of  ihe  globe, 
it  is  to  be  questioned,  if  there  ever  was  any  people  upon  it, 
who  could  be  said  to  be  in  a  perfect  state  of  nature,  as 
will  afterwards  appear. 

The  despisers  of  revealed  religion,  on  account  of  the 
all- sufficiency  of  human  reason,  are  desired  to  consider 
tht  following  proofs  of  its  boasted  sufficiency  in  matters 
of  both  belief  and  practice. 

The  only  account  we  have  of  the  antediluvian  manners, 
is  that  given  by  Moses,  viz.  That  all  flesh  corrupted  their 
ways  to  such  a  degree,  as  to  render  it  necessary  to  purify 
the  earth  by  a  general  deluge.  Of  the  patriarchal  times, 
the  only  accounts  we  have  are  likewise  from  the  same  ven- 
erable writer  ;  which  show  the  people  of  those  ages,  ex- 
cept a  few  families,  to  have  been  wholly  given  to  poly- 
theism and  idolatry.  The  destruction  of  the  five  cities  by 
lire  from  heaven,  for  the  most  abominable  and  unnatural 
crimes,  shows  the  state  of  corruption  to  which  the  people 
oi  those  times  were  sunk.  -The  accounts  we  have  from 
Herodotus  and  Diodorus  Siculus,  of  the  religion  of  the 
Egyptians,  the  fathers  of  wisdom  and  learning,  are  the 
disgrace  of  human  reason-.  Their  worshipping  the  most 
contemptible  and  hateful  animals,  as  crocodiles,  storks, 
c  ts,  vnonkevs,  and  calves  ;  to  kill  which  sacred  animals, 
was  death  by  their  law,  and  which  they  carefully  embalm- 
ed, and  solemnly  deposited  in  tombs  ;  and  their  adoration 
even  of  plants,  as  leeks  and  onions  ;  these  are  strange  in- 
stances of  the  sufficiency  of  reason  forjudging  in  religions 
matters!  They  also  (according  to  the  same  author)  allow- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  405 

ed  of  theft;  and  made  marriages  between  brothers* and 

sisters  a  part  of  religion.  \\  hat  were  all  tht  poj  n  'reli- 
gions of  the  Pagans  in  general,  but  a  heap  of  absurdiiu  s  ? 
What  can  be  said  of  their  il;  it  k  s  ;  w  hose  characters  were 
too  shocking,  for  men  and  women  of  such  manner;-;  to  be 
suffered  to  live  among  us?  And  lest  there  should  be  any 
want  of  such  hopeful  objects  of  worship,  they  multiplied 
them  to  such  a  number,  that  Varro  reckons  up  a  link  ar- 
mv  of  them,  and  Lucian  represents  the  heavens  as  in  dan- 
ger of  being  broke  down  with  the  weight  of  such  a- multi- 
tude. The  horrid  practice  of  appeasing  them  with  human 
blood,  and  even  with  that  of  the  children  of  the  zealous 
votaries  themselves,  with  the  abominable  imeuri'ic;  as- 
cribed to  them,  and  practised  by  their  blind  worshippers 
in  honour  of  them,  show  what  notions  of  the  object,  and 
nature  of  worship,  human  reason,  left  to  itself,  is  apt  to 
run  into.  Those,  who  had  bettei  notions  of  the  superior 
powers,  represent  them  as  cither  quarrelling  and  figlnii  g 
[Homer  makes  his  goddesses  treat  one  another  with  the 
language  of  Billingsgate)  or  as  a  set  of  idle  luxurious  vo- 
luptuaries, spending  their  whole  time  in  cpiafring  of  nectar, 
wholly  regardless  of  human  affairs*  In  some  ancient  na- 
tions, every  young  woman  was  obliged  to  prostitute  herself 
in  the  temple  of  Venus,  as  a  religious  oeremoro  .  Thucy- 
dides  says,  that  both  Greeks  and  Barbarians  thought 
berv  and  plunder  glorious.  The  whole  ancient  Ik:  i 
was  indeed  little  else.  And  it  was  chiefly  by  violence  and 
brutal  fury,  that  the  Macedonian,  Roman,  and  other  states 
acquired  such  an  extent  of  dominion.  From  Homer,  and 
other  writers,  down  to  the  Roman  historians,  we  see  how 
the  manners  of  ancient  times  allowed  to  treat  captives  in 
war*.  Princes  and  princesses  were  dragged  in  triumph  af- 
ter the  chariot  of  the  conqueror  ;  and  they,  and  the  inferior 
.people,  by  thousands,  butchered  in  cold  blood,  or  condemn- 
ed to  slavery  :  The  beautiful  part  of  the  female  captives 
shared  among  the  heroes,  and  condemned  to  prostitution, 
and  infamy.  The  laws  of  Lycurgiis  were  founded  in  war 
and  savage  heroism,  and  allowed  stealing,  unless  the  person 
was  caught  in  the  fact.  Adultery  was  also  in  certain  cases 
established  by  law.  Kxposino;  of  children  was,  among  the 
Romans  accoreling  to  Luctantius,  a  daily  practice.  Glad- 
iators butchering  one  another  by  thousands,  was  the  reign- 


406  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION, 

i.i      diversion  among  those  lords  of  the  world  for  ages. 
And  it  was  common,  when  one  had  got  the  other  down, 
for  the  conqueror  to  look  at  the  people  for  their  orders, 
whether  to  spare  or  kill  him,  which  they  often  gave  for  the 
latter;  and  even  the  ladies,  if  we  may  belie  ve  their  own 
writers,   would  often  give  the  signal  to  dispatch  a  poor, 
conquered,  helpless  victim,  that  they  might  feast  their  sav, 
age  and  unwomanly  hearts  with  scenes  of  cruelty  and  blood. 
The  authors  of  the  Grecian  wisdom  were  almost  all   ad- 
dieted  to  one  vice  or  other,  some  more,  some  less  scanda- 
lous.    Their  snarling,  and  impudence,  got  them  the   ap- 
pellation of  Cynics  ;  and  disputes  about  words  run  through 
all  their  writings.     Too  many  of  both  Greek  and  Roman 
philosophers,  or  wise  men,  flattered  the  vices  of  princes. 
Socrates  himself,  the  father  of  wisdom,  and  opposer  of 
polytheism,  encouraged  to  consult  the  oracles*  and  to  of- 
fer  sacrifice  to  idols.     Plato's  morals   were  so  obscure, 
that  it  required  a  life  time  to  understand   them.      Cicero 
excuses  and  countenances  lewdness  in  some  parts  of  his 
writings.     And  those  of  Seneca  are  not  without  their  poi- 
son.    What  were  the  manners  of  the  polite  court  of  Au- 
gustus (to  say  nothing  of  the  sea  of  blood,  through  which 
he  swam  to  the  imperial  throne)  is  pretty  evident  from  the 
abominable  and  unnatural  fiithiness  scattered  through  the 
writings  of  the  wits  of  that  elegant  age.     Which  of  the 
ancient  sages  did  not  too  far  temporize,  and  conform  to 
the  national  superstition,  contrary  to  their  better  knowl- 
edge, and  even  make  the  worst  species  of  dissimulation 
a  part  of  the  duty  of  a  good  citizen  ;  the  consequence  of 
which  was  the  effectual  rivetting  of  error,  and  prevention 
of  reasonable  inquiry  and  reformation.     It  is  certain,  that 
whole  nations  have  placed  virtue  on  directly  opposite  sides; 
and  that  the  wise  ancients  differed  in  their  notion  of  what 
the  chief  good  of  man  consisted  in,  to  such  a  degree,  that., 
one  author  reckons  up  several  hundred  different  opinions 
on  the  subject.     This  shows  that  the   understanding,  or 
moral  sense,  though  sufficient,  when  illuminated  by  Divine 
revelation,  to  judge  of  truth,  is  not,  for  all  that,  capable  of 
striking  out  of  itself  sufficient  light,  safely  to  guide  itself, 
especially  overwhelmed  and  oppressed  as  it  is  by  vice  and 
prejudice.     The   most  sublime  of  the  Heathen   philoso- 
phers never  put  the  immortality  of  the  soul  (the  founda- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  407 

tion  of  all  religion)  out  of  doubt.  On  the  contrary,  they 
represent  it  as  at  best  only  a  very  desirable  scheme.  Of 
a  general  resurrection  of  the  body,  an  universal  public 
judgment,  and  final  happiness  of  the  whole  Human  Na- 
ture, soul  and  body,  in  a  state  of  everlasting  glory,  it  does 
not  appear  that  they  had  any  clear  notions  ;  or  that  they 
carried  their  views  beyond  the  Elysian  state.  None  of 
them  could  satisfy  a  thinking  mind  about  the  proper  means 
for  propitiating  the  Deity,  or  whether  guiit  was  like  to  be 
pardoned  at  all :  nor  could  any  of  them  prescribe  an  ac- 
ceptable method  of  addressing  the  object  of  worship.  On 
the  contrary,  Plato  represents  the  wise  S  crates  as  at  a  full 
stop,  and  advising  not  to  worship  at  all,  till  such  time  as 
it  should  please  God  to  inform  mankind,  by  an  express 
revelation,  how  they  might  address  him  acceptably.  Nor 
did  any  of  them  sufficiently  inculcate  humility,  the  foun- 
dation of  all  virtues.  On  the  contrary,  the  very  schemes 
of  some  of  the  sects  were  rather  founded  in  pride  and  ob- 
stinacy. Nor  did  any  of  them  go  so  far  as  to  show  that 
forgiving  injuries,  loving  enemies,  and  setting  the  affec- 
tions upon  the  future  heavenly  state,  were  absolutely  ne- 
cessary. The  utmost  that  any  of  them  did,  was  to  recom- 
mend the  more  sublime  virtues  to  the  practice  of  such 
persons  as  could  reach  them.  So  much  for  the  Heathen 
doctrines  and  morals. 

Mahomet  is  known  to  have  abandoned  himself  to  lust 
all  his  life  long.  His  impostures  were  so  gross,  that  when 
he  first  broached  them,  his  best  friends  were  ashamed  of 
both  him  and  them.  His  religion  sets  upon  the  foot  of 
direct  violence  and  force  of  arms,  and  makes  sensual  grati- 
fications, to  the  most  excessive  degree  of  beastliness,  the 
final  reward  of  a  strict  attachment  to  it.  The  Koran,  so 
far  as  it  is  an  original,  is  a  heap  of  absurd  doctrines,  and. 
trifling  or  bad  laws.  The  few  miracles  which  Mahomet 
pretends  to  have  performed,  are  either  things  within  the 
reach  of  human  power,  or  are  hideous  and  incredible  ab- 
surdities, or  are  wholly  unattested. 

The  papists,  who  pretend  to  be  christians ;  but  have 
in  fact  forged  a  religion  of  their  own  ;  have  they  done  any 
honour  to  the  opinion  of  the  all-sufficiency  of  reason  in 
matters  of  religion  ?  Let  every  one  of  their  peculiar  doc- 
trines be  examined,  and  let  it  be  considered  what  advan- 


408  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

tage  il  is  of  to  mank indi for  regulating  their  belief*  and 
pnciice.  Their  invocation  of  saints,  who  ought  to  be 
omnipresent,  to  hear  their  prayers  ;  which,  according  to 

their  own  account  oi  the  matter  they  are  not.  Their  pur* 
gatory,  out  oi  which  the  priest  can  pray  a  soul  at  any  time 
for  money,  which  must  defeat  the  very  design  of  a  purga- 
tory. Their  penances,  pilgrimages,  fines,  absolutions, 
and  inctulgencies ;  whose  direct  tendency  is  to  lead  the 
deluded  votaries  oi  that  cursed  superstition  into  a  total 
neglect  of  the  obligations  of  virtue,  defeating  the  very  end 
of  religion.  The  infallibility  of  their  popes,  while  one 
tMonders  out  bulls  and  decrees  directly  contrary  to  those 
of  another.  And,  last  and  worst  (for  it  is  endless  to  enu- 
merate the  absurdities  of  popery)  that  most  hideous  and 
monstrous  of  all  productions  of  the  human  brain,  tran- 
substantiation,  which  at  once  confounds  all  sense,  over- 
turns all  reasoning;,  and  renders  all  truth  precarious  and 
uncertain.  These  are  the  triumphs  of  reason  ;  these  the 
productions  of  human  invention,  when  applied  to  making 
ol  religions. 

Upon  the  whole,  from  this  brief  and  imperfect  represen- 
tation of  the  state  of  those  parts  of  the  world  which  have 
enjoyed  but  a  very  little  of  the  light  of  genuine  Divine 
revelation,  (for  it  is  to  be  doubted,  whether  any  was  ever 
wholly  without  it)  and  of  those  which  have  wickedly  ex- 
tinguished, or  foolishly  forsaken  it,  from  this  very  brief 
representation,  I  say,  human  reason,  unassisted  from  above, 
shows  itself  so  far  from  sufficient  for  leading  mankind  in 
general  into  a  completely  right  belief  and  practice,  that  in 
almost  every  point,  beyond  mere  simple  right  and  wrong, 
it  misleads  into  error,  or  falls  short  of  truth.  As  the  na- 
ked eye,  though  very  fit  for  directing  our  way  on  earth, 
yet  misrepresents,  through  its  weakness,  every  celestial 
object ;  shows  the  sun  no  bigger  than  a  chariot  wheel,  the 
moon  fiat  like  a  plate  of  silver,  and  the  planets  like  lucid 
points.  The  same  eye  stregthened  by  a  telescope  sees 
the  sun,  and  moon,  and  planets,  large  and  globular,  as 
they  reallv  are.  Revelation  is  that  to  reason,  which  a 
telescope  is  to  the  eye  ;  an  advantage  and  improvement.- 
As  he,  who  would  see  the  wonders  of  the  heavens,  arms 
his  eye  with  a  telescope,  so  does  the  judicious  inquirer 
into  religious  truth,  apply  to  revelation  for  those  informa- 


©F  REVEALED  RELIGION.  409 

tions,  which  reason  alone  would  never  have  givenvthough 
it  judges  of,  and  approves  them,  when  given.  And  as 
the  astronomer  does  not  think  of  putting  out  his  eve,  in 
order  to  see  better  with  a  telescope  ;  so  neither  docs  the 
judicious  advocate  for  revelation  desire  to  oppose  it  to 
reason,  but  to  examine  it  by  reason  and  to  improve  his 
reason  by  it. 

The  abominable  priestcraft,  and  horrid  persecution 
and  blood-shed,  which  have  been  the  disgrace  of  a  reli- 
gion, whose  distinguishing  characteristic  is  benevo- 
lence, is  no  confutation  of  what  I  have  been  advancing  in. 
support  of  the  natural  tendency  and  actual  good  effects 
upon  a  great  number  of  mankind,  of  pure  religion  ;  and 
only  shows  that  even  a  Divine  appointment  may  be  per- 
verted to  the  purpose  of  establishing  the  kingdom  of  Satan. 
At  any  rate,  the  abuse  of  revelation,  is  no  better  objection 
against  revelation,  than  that  of  reason  (of  which  every 
hour  presents  us  various  instances)  is  against  reason; 
which  nobody  ever  thought  of  urging,  as  an  argument  that 
it  was  not  of  Divine  original. 

The  disputes  among  the  many  different  sects  of  chris- 
tians, which  have  rendered  it  very  difficult  for  those,  who 
search  for  the  doctrines  of  revealed  religion,  any  where, 
but  in  the  Bible  itself,  to  settle  their  judgment  upon 
many  points;  those  disputes  are  no  just  objection  against 
revelation,  any  more  than  against  every  branch  of  human 
science  whatever  ;  upon  every  one  of  which,  not  excepting 
even  the  pure  mathematics,  controversies  have  been  raised. 
A  revelation,  upon  which  it  should  be  impossible  for 
designing,  subtle  men  to  raise  disputes,  is  hardly  conceiva- 
ble ;  or,  however,  is  altogether  inconsistent  with  the  idea 
of  a  contrivance  intended  for  the  improvement  of  a  set  of 
free  moral  agents;  who  must  be  expected  to  treat  rtveia- 
tion,  as  well  as  every  other  kind  of  information,  according 
to  their  respective  capacities,  and  tempers  of  mind. 

If  it  has  been  alleged,  that  for  God  to  have  recourse  to 
a  direct  message,  or  revelation,  for  reforming  or  improving 
mankind,  or  supplying  the  deficiencies  of  reason,  looks  like 
a  defect  in  the  make  of  the  creature  ;  and  that  reason  ought 
alone  to  have  been  made  originally  equal  to  the  purpose  of 
enabling  mankind  to  secure  their  final  happiness;  the  an- 
swer is  easy,  to  wit,  That  ii  human  reason  were  supposed 

3  F 


410  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

more  equal  to  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  given  than  it 
ist  a  revelation  might  still  be  of  great  advantage.  And 
thai  to  suppose  an  express  contrivance  for  mending  the 
moral  world  necessary,  or  useful,  is  no  more  unphiloso- 
phical,  or  to  speak  properly,  more  unworthy  of  God,  than 
one  for  the  same  purpose,  in  the  natural  world.  And  this 
latter  is  by  our  great  philosopher  allowed  to  be  probable. 

Supposing  it  reasonable  to  believe  that  the  Divine  pow- 
er, either  immediately,  or  by  means  of  the  intervention  or 
instrumentality  of  inferior  agents  and  causes,  dees  con- 
tinually actuate  the  natural  world,  and  conduct  the  moral; 
is  not  this  a  continued  interposition?  Why  then  should 
the  thought  of  an  extraordinary  interposition  on  an  extraor- 
dinary occasion,  in  order  to  a  great  and  important  end, 
be  so  difficult  to  conceive  ?  At  any  rate,  what  must  those 
gentlemen,  who  are  so  startled  at  the  notion  of  an  extraor- 
dinary step  taken  by  the  infinitely  wise  and  absolutely 
free  Governor  of  the  world;  what  must  they  say  of  the 
creation  of  the  universe?  Did  the  universe  come  into  exist- 
ence by  settled  laws  of  nature  ?  Is  there  any  law  of  nature 
by  which  nothing  becomes  something  ?  And  does  that  law 
take  place  at  such  and  such  precise  times,  and  no  other? 
Let  the  opposcrs  of  extraordinary  interpositions  make 
the  most  of  that  difficulty,  they  must  acknowledge  some- 
what extraordinary,  as  they  choose  to  call  it,  to  take  place- 
now  and  then  in  the  universe  on  occasion  of  the  creation 
of  a  world.  And  it  does  not  appear  to  me,  that  the  restora- 
tion, or  (as  it  may  be  called)  making  a-new  a  world,  is  of 
much  less  consequence,  or  less  worthy  of  a  particular  in- 
terposition, than  the  first  creation  of  it. 

But  after  all,  what  is  it  those  . gentlemen  puzzle  them- 
selves with  ?  Are  they  sure,  that  in  order,  the  giving  a 
positive  revelation  to  mankind,  and  the  restoration  of  a 
world  by  means  of  such  an  institution  as  the  christian, 
there  is  any  thing  to  be  done  out  of,  or  contrary  to  the 
common  course  of  things?  Can  they  be  positive,  that  there 
never  was,  or  will  be,  any  scheme,  analogous  to  this,  con- 
tri\< d  for  any  other  order  of  beings  in  the  universe?  To 
affirm  this,  would  be  about  as  judicious  as  the  opinion  of 
the  vulgar,  that  thunder  is  an  immediate  expression  of  the 
Divine  displeasure,  and  that  comtts  are  sent  on  purpose 
to  give  notice  of  impending  judgments.     Whereas  a  lit- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  411 

tic  knowledge  of  nature  shows,  that,  whatever  moral  instruc- 
tions those  phenomena  are  in  general  fitted  to  communi- 
cate at  all  times  to  mankind,  the  cause  of  them  is  part  of 
the  mere  constitution  of  nature.  And  who  can  say,  that 
superior  beings  may  not  have  such  extensive  views  of  the 
august  plan  of  the  Divine  government,  as  to  see  the  whole 
scheme  of  revealed  religion  in  the  same  light  ? 

Nor  are  there  wanting  various  particulars,  in  the  Divine 
government  of  the  moral  world,  analogous,  in  a  lower 
sphere,  to  the  grand  scheme  of  revelation.  How  much 
are  we  in  the  present  state  dependant  on  others  for  various 
advantages  spiritual  and  temporal?  What  gift  of  God  do 
we  receive  without  the  interposition  of  some  agent?  How 
are  parents,  teachers,  spiritual  pastors,  and  guardian  an- 
gels, made  the  channels  of  the  Divine  goodness  to  us?  Is 
there  not  in  this  something  similar  to  our  receiving  the 
inestimable  advantages  of  the  perfect  knowledge  of  our 
duty,  the  pardon  of  our  sins,  andall  the  blessings  which  reli- 
gion bestows,  through  the  channel  of  a  Mediator  between 
God  and  us  ?  Our  Saviour's  taking  upon  himself  certain 
sufferings,  by  which  we  are  to  gain  great  advantages,  is  by 
no  means  foreign  to  the  common  course  of  the  world,  in 
which  we  see  very  great  hazards  run,  and  actual  inconve- 
niences suffered  by  friends  and  relations  for  one  another. 
He  and  his  apostles  allow  of  this  analogy. 

In  the  common  course  of  things,  thoughtlessness  and 
folly,  which  though  not  innocent,  are  yet  pitiable,  are  the 
causes  of  very  terrible  misfortunes  ;  and  are  therefore  in 
many  cases  provided  for  by  the  goodness  of  the  wise  Gov- 
ernor of  the  world,  so  that  they  do  not  always  prove  irre- 
trievable. A  thoughtless  person  by  intemperance,  runs 
himself  into  a  quarrel,  in  which  he  is  wounded.  With- 
out help,  he  must  perish.  And  it  is  not  to  be  expected 
that  he  should  be  miraculously  recovered.  Is  it  not  the 
Divine  goodness,  which  has  furnished  the  materials  neces- 
sary for  his  cure,  made  provision  in  the  formation  of  the 
human  body  for  the  accidents  it  might  be  liable  to,  so 
that  every  hurt  should  not  prove  fatal  to  it ;  and  engaged  us 
to  be  kind  and  helpful  to  one  another ;  so  that  we  should 
be  sure  of  comfort  from  one  or  other  in  our  distress  ?  In 
the  same  manner,  and  by  the  same  goodness,  exerted  in 
a  higher  degree,  revelation  teaches  us,  a  remedy  is  pro- 


41 2  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

vided  for  the  recovery  to  the  Divine  mercy  (in  a  consist- 
ency with  the  wisdom  and  rectitude  of  his  moral  govern- 
ment) of  a  fallen,  offending  order  of  being's.  In  the  case 
of  the  unfortunate  person  here  exemplified,  his  being  con- 
vince d  of  his  folly  ;  his  being  heartily  concerned  for  it; 
and  his  resolving  never  more  to  be  guilty  of  the  like,  is 
Bdt  sufficient  for  his  recovery  ;  any  more  than  repentance 
and  reformation  alone  could  be  supposed  sufficient  to  put 
offenders  on  a  footing  with  innocent  beings. 

Natural  ends  are  produced  by  natural  means :  so  are 
moral.  Natural  means  are  many  of  them  slow,  and  seem- 
ingly unpromising,  if  experience  did  not  show  their  fitness. 
It  may  therefore  be  concluded,  and  hoped,  that  the  design 
of  giving  a  revelation  to  mankind,  however  unpromising 
of  extensive  success,  will  eventually,  and  upon  the  whole, 
be  gained,  in  such  a  measure  as  it  may  not  be  wholly  de- 
feated. Natural  means  come  short,  in  some  particular 
instances,  of  their  direct  and  apparent  ends  ;  as  in  abor- 
tions of  all  kinds  in  the  animal  and  vegetable  world.  In 
the  same  manner  it  is  to  be  feared,  that  all  the  moral  means 
used  by  Divine  goodness,  for  the  reformation  of  mankind, 
and  revelation  among  the  rest,  will,  through  their  pcr- 
verseness,  come  greatly  short  of  the  direct  end,  the  hap- 
piness of  the  species  ;  though  it  shall  not  be  in  the  power 
oi  all  created  beings  to  prevent  the  secondary  and  more 
indirect  intention  of  the  Divine  moral  institutions. 

Some  opposers  of  revelation  have  run  themselves  into 
a  great  many  difficulties,  by  forming  to  themselves  a  set 
of  groundless  and  arbitrary  notions  of  what  a  revelation 
from  God  ought  absolutely  to  be,  which  not  taking  place 
according  to  their  theory,  they  have  concluded  against  i he 
credibility  of  revelation  ;  than  which  nothing  can  be  im- 
agined more  rash  and  unreasonable,  to  say  the  least.  They 
have  for  example,  laid  it  down  for  an  infallible  position,  that 
a  truly  Divine  revelation  must  contain  all  possible  kinds 
and  dc  grees  of  knowledge.  But  finding  that  the  modern 
astronomy,  and  other  sciences,  have  no  place  in  scripture, 
orthat  the  expressions  in  those  ancient  books  do  not  always 
suit  the  true  philosophy,  they  conclude  that  scripture  is 
no:  given  by  inspiration.  But  when  it  is  considered,  that 
the  design  of  revelation  was  not  to  make  men  philosophers, 
it  may  very  well  be  supposed,  that  the  spirit  which  con. 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  413 

ducted  it  did  not  see  it  necessary  to  inspire  the  sacred  pen- 
men with  any  knowledge  not  directly  necessary  for  improv- 
ing men's  hearts  and  lives.  Finding  some  inconsiderable 
variations  in  the  historical  accounts,  as  "of  our  Saviour's 
resurrection  and  other  particulars,  they  conclude,  that  the 
narration  is  not  authentic  :  for  that  inspiration  must  have 
prevented  any  such  variation  in  the  accounts  of  the  differ- 
ent writers.  But  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  the  mea- 
sure of  inspiration  must  be  supposed  to  have  been  limited; 
that  every  single  article  and  syllable  was  not  necessary  to 
be  expressly  inspired;  that  where  the  human  faculties  of 
the  writers  were  in  the  main  sufficient,  it  was  not  to  be  sup- 
posed inspiration  should  interpose ;  and  that  revelation  was 
designed  to  be  perfect  (as  all  things  which  we  have  to  do 
at  present)  only  to  a  certain  degree. 

The  want  of  universality  is  an  objection  of  the  same 
kind.  But  if  the  consideration  of  the  true  religion's  not 
being  communicated  alike  to  all  mankind,  proves  any 
thing  against  it,  the  same  objection  lies  against  reason. 
For  it  is  given  to  men  in  such  different  measures,  as  almost 
to  render  it  doubtful  whether  they  ought  not  to  be  pro- 
nounced of  different  species.  Nor  is  there  any  injustice 
in  the  different  distribution  of  gifts  and  advantages  ;  if  we 
take  in  the  due  allowance  made  for  those  differences  in 
the  final  judgment.  If  a  Hottentot,  be  hereafter  judged 
as  a  Hottentot,  he  ought  as  much  to  own  the  justice  of 
his  sentence,  as  a  Newton,  when  judged  as  a  philosopher. 

Could  we  have  formed  any  just  novion  what  the  measure 
of  human  reason,  what  the  reach  of  human  sagacity  ought 
to  have  been  ?  Whether  it  ought  to  shine  forth  in  its  great- 
est brightness  at  first,  or  to  come  to  its  maturity  by  slow 
degrees ;  whether  it  ought  in  its  exertion  to  be  wholly  inde- 
pendent on  the  body,  or  if  it  should  be  liable  to  be  dis- 
ordered with  the  disorder  of  the  corporeal  frame ;  whether 
it  ought  to  be  always  equal,  or  weak  in  youth  and  in  ex- 
treme old  age.  Who  would  have  thought  the  seemingly 
precarious  faculty  of  invention,  a  proper  method  for  im- 
proving arts  and  sciences  !  Who  would  have  thought  that 
writing  and  printing  could  ever  have  been  made  the  means 
of  carrying  human  knowledge  to  the  height  we  know  they 
have  done  ?  If  we  find  that  Divine  wisdom  can,  by  the 
most  unpromising  causes,  produce  the  greatest  effects, 


4,14,  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

and  *hat  hardly  any  thing  is  constituted  in  such  a  manner 
as  human  wisdom  would  beforehand  have  judged  proper, 
why  should  we  wonder  if  we  cannot  reconcile  the  scheme 
of  Divine  revelation  to  our  arbitrary  and  fantastical  views  ; 
which  for  any  thing  we  know,  may  be  immensely  differ- 
ent from  those  of  the  Author  of  revelation  ? 

With  all  our  incapacity  of  judging  beforehand  what 
revelation  ought  to  have  been,  it  does  not  follow,  that  we 
may  not  be  sufficiently  qualified  to  judge  of  its  evidence 
and  excellence  now  it  is  delivered.  And  that  is  enough 
to  determine  us  to  what  is  right  and  safe  for  us,  I  mean, 
to  pay  it  all  due  regard.  For,  in  all  cases,  it  is  our  wis- 
dom to  act  upon  the  best  probability  we  can  obtain. 

A  supernatural  scheme  contrived  by  Divine  wisdom, 
an  express  revelation  from  God,  may  well  be  expected  to 
contain  difficulties  too  great  for  human  reason  to  investi- 
gate. The  ordinary  economy  of  nature  and  providence, 
is  founded  in,  and  conducted  by  a  sagacity  too  deep  lor 
our  penetration,  much  more  the  extraordinary  parts,  if 
such  there  are,  of  the  Divine  government.  In  the  works 
of  nature,  it  is  easy  for  men  to  puzzle  themselves  and 
others  with  difficulties  unsurmauntable,  as  well  as  to  find 
objections  innumerable;  to  say,  Why  was  such  a  crea- 
tnrc  or  thing  made  so  '?  Why  was  such  another  not  made 
in  such  a  particular  manner "?  The  ways  of  Providence 
are  also  too  intricate  and  complex  for  our  shallow  under- 
standings to  trace  out.  The  wisdom,  which  guides  the 
moral,  as  well  as  that  which  framed  the  natural  system,  is 
Divine ;  and  therefore  too  exquisite  for  our  gross  appre- 
hensions. Even  in  human  government,  it  is  not  to  be 
expected,  that  every  particular  law  or  regulation  should 
give  satisfaction  to  every  subjtct,  or  should  be  perfectly 
seen  through  by  individuals  at  a  distance  from  the  seat  of 
government :  which  is  often  the  cause,  especially  in  free 
countries,  of  most  unreasonable  and  ridiculous  complaints 
against  what  is  highly  wise  and  conducive  to  the  general 
advantage.  But  in  inquiring  into  nature,  providence,  and 
Ltion,  one  rule  will  effectually  lead  us  to  a  proper  de- 
termination, to  wit,  to  judge  by  what  we  know,  not  by  what 
we  are  ignorant  of.  If  in  the  works  and  ways  of  God,  in 
nature,  providence, and  revelation,  where,  comprehended 
by  us,  we  find  a  profusion  of  wisdom  and  goodness  exhibit- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  415 

ed  in  the  most  perspicuous  and  striking  manner ;  is  any 
thing  more  reasonable  than  to  conclude,  that  if  we  saw 
through  the  whole,  we  should  perceive  the  same  proprie- 
ty in  those  parts  which  are  intricate,  as  we  now  do  in  the 
clearest  ?  And  it  has  been  the  peculiar  fate  of  revelation, 
much  more  than  either  of  the  other  two,  to  be  opposed 
on  account  of  such  difficulties  in  it,  as  arise  from  our  weak- 
ness. Especially,  it  has  very  rarely  happened,  that  the 
existence  of  God,  and  the  doctrine  of  his  being  the  Crea- 
tor of  the  world,  has  been  questioned  merely  on  account 
of  any  difficulties  in  tracing  out  the  wisdom  of  any  part  of 
the  constitution  of  nature.  And  yet  it  would  be  as  rational 
to  argue,  that  there  is  no  God,  because  the  brutes  have  in 
some  inferior  respects  the  advantage  of  the  lord  of  this  lower 
world,  as  to  question  the  truth  of  revealed  religion,  after 
examining  its  innumerable  evidences,  presumptive  and 
positive,  merely  because  we  may  think  it  strange,  that  the 
Saviour  of  the  world  shoud  die  the  death  of  a  criminal. 

Here  it  is  proper  to  enter  an  express  caveat  against  what- 
ever may  pretend  to  the  sacred  character  of  a  point  of  faith 
or  religion,  and  on  that  pretence  elude  or  baffle  reason. 
There  can  nothing  be  imagined  to  be  intended  for  the  use 
and  improvement  of  reasonable  minds,  which  directly  and 
explicitly  contradicts  reason.  If  reason  and  revelation  be 
both  the  gifts  of  God,  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  they 
should  oppose  one  another  ;  but  that  they  should  tally, 
as  both  coming  from  the  same  wise  and  good  Author. 
Whatever  therefore  is  an  express  absurdity,  or  contra- 
diction, we  may  be  well  assured  can  be  no  genuine  doc- 
trine of  revealed  religion,  but  a  blundering  invention  of 
weak  or  designing  men.  It  is  one  thing  for  a  point  of  re- 
vealed religion  to  be,  as  to  its  ?nodu$,  above  our  reach,  and 
quite  another  matter,  for  a  doctrine  to  be  clearly  contra- 
dictory to  human  understanding.  That  the  direct  con- 
nexion in  the  nature  of  things  betwixt  the  death  of  Christ 
and  the  salvation  of  mankind,  should  be  utterly  inexpli- 
cable by  human  reason,  is  no  more  than  what  might  have 
been  expected,  and,  if  unquestionably  a  doctrine  of  reveal- 
ed religion,  is  to  be  received  without  hesitation  upon  the 
credit  of  the  other  parts  which  we  understand  more  perfect- 
ly. But,  that  on  a  priest's  muttering  a  few  words  over  a 
wafer,  it  should  immediately  become  a  whole  Christ,  while 


416  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION". 

at  the  same  time  it  is  certain,  that  if  a  little  arsenic  had 
been  put  into  the  composition  of  it,  it  would  have  effectu- 
ally poisoned  the  soundest  believer  ;  and  while  we  know 
that  there  can  be  but  one  whole  Christ,  though  the  Papists 
pretend  to  make  a  thousand  Christs  in  a  day  ;  this  is  not 
to  be  considered  as  a  difficult  or  mysterious  point,  but  as 
a  clear  express  contradiction  both  to  sense  and  reason. 

It  is  also  proper  here  to  mention,  that  whatever  doctrine 
of  religion  (supposing  it  to  be  really  genuine)  is  btyond 
the  reach  of  human  understanding,  cannot  be  imagined  ne- 
cessary to  be  received,  any  farther  than  understood.  For  be- 
lief cannot  be  carried  the  least  degree  beyond  conception. 
And  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that  a  doctrine  may  be  con- 
tained in  scripture,  and  yet  not  a  necessan  point  of  faith. 
For  example  :  It  is  said  in  scripture,  that  the  angels  de- 
sired to  look  into  the  scheme  of  the  redemption  of  man- 
kind. But  nobody  has  ever  thought,  of  making  an  article 
of  faith  necessary  to  salvation,  That  we  are  to  believe,  that 
the  angels  are  interested  in  the  scheme  of  our  redemption. 
Unless  scripture  itself  expressly  declares  a  doctrine  neces- 
sary to  be  received,  we  cannot,  without  rashness,  pretend 
to  pronounce  it  absolutely  necessary  to  be  believed  in  any 
precise  or  determinate  sense  whatever. 

It  has  been  objected  against  the  scheme  of  revelation 
which  is  received  among  us,  That  great  part  of  the  precepts 
contained  in  it  are  such  as  appear  at  first  view  agreeable  to 
sound  reason  ;  whereas  it  might  have  been  expected  (say 
those  objectors,  or  rather  cavillers)  that  every  article  in  it 
should  be  quite  new  and  unheard  of.  At  the  same  time 
the  same  gentlemen  think  proper  likewise  to  object,  That 
many  of  the  scripture-expressions  are  very  different  from 
those  used  bv  other  ancient  authors.  So  that  it  is,  it  seems, 
an  objection  against  scripture,  That  it  is  what  it  might 
have  been  expected  to  be ;  and  that  it  is  not  what  it  might 
have  been  expected  to  be. 

To  the  former  of  these  cavils  it  may  be  briefly  answered, 
That  the  general  agreement  between  reason  and  revela- 
tion, shows  both  to  be  of  Divine  original ;  while  revela- 
tion's being  an  improvement  and  addition  to  reason,* 
shows  its  usefulness  and  expediency.  The  latter  difficulty 

•  See  page  408. 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  417 

will  vanish  on  considering  that  many  of  the  scripture  ex- 
pressions are  visibly  accommodated  to  humanapprehension, 
while  others  on  the  same  subjects  are  raised  to  a  sublimity 
suitable  to  the  nature  of  the  thing  ;  by  which  means  the 
narrowest  mind  receives  an  information  suitable  to  its 
reach,  whilst  the  most  elevated  conception  is  enlarged  by 
views  of  the  noblest  and  most  sublime  nature.  Thus,  to 
mention  only  one  instance  at  present,  the  meanest  reader 
of  Scripture,  is  struck  with  fear  of  One,  whose  eye  is  quick 
and  piercing,  to  search  the  hearts,  and  try  the  reins  of  the 
children  of  men,  and  whose  hand  is  powerful,  and  his 
out- stretched  arm  mighty,  to  seize  and  punish  offenders. 
At  the  same  time  the  profound  philosopher  is  in  the  same 
writings  informed,  that  God  is  a  spirit  filling  heaven  and 
earth,  and  not  contained  within  the  limits  of  the  heaven 
of  heavens,  but  inhabiting  immensity  and  eternity,  in 
whom  all  live  and  move,  and  have  their  beings  ;  necessarily 
invisible,  and  alogether  unlike  to  any  of  his  creatures  ;  hav- 
ing neither  eyes,  nor  hands,  nor  passions  like  those  of  men ; 
but  whose  ways  are  infinitely  above  our  ways  and  his 
thoughts  above  our  thoughts.  Thus  the  Scripture  language 
is  such,  as  that  of  a  revelation  intended  for  the  improve- 
ment of  men  of  all  different  degrees  of  capacity,  ought  to 
be.     It  is,  in  short,  fit  for  the  use  of  a  whole  species. 

That  the  Old  Testament  particularly,  which  is  the  only- 
book  extant  in  that  language,  should  be  so  well  preserved 
and  understood  as  it  is,  so  long  after  the  Hebrew  has  ceased 
to  be  a  living  language  :  that  we  should  at  this  time  be 
able  to  make  out  a  regular  history,  and  a  set  of  consistent 
thoughts  and  views,  from  writings  of  such  antiquity,  is 
much  more  to  be  wondered,  than  that  there  should  be 
found  in  them  difficulties,  seeming  contradictions,  and 
thoughts  or  expressions  different  from  those  found  in  pro- 
ductions of  a  later  date.  But  above  all  things,  that  the 
thoughts  and  expressions  in  Scripture  should  so  far  exceed 
in  sublimity  all  other  compositions,  seems  unaccountable 
upon  every  other  scheme,  but  their  being  of  Divine  origi- 
nal. Of  the  truth  of  this  assertion,  let  the  following  in- 
stance, among  innumerable  others,  serve  as  a  proof. 

The  loftiest  passage,  in  the  most  sublime  of  all  human 
productions,  is  the  beginning  of  the  eighth  book  of 
Homer's  Iliad.     There  the  greatest  of  all  human  imagina- 

3G 


418  OF  UEVE\LLD  RELIGION". 

tions  labours  to  describe,  not  a  hero,  but  a  God ;  not  an 
inferior,  but  the  Supreme  God;  not  to  show  his  superior- 
ity to  mortals,  but  to  the  heavenly  powers ;  and  not  to 
one,  but  to  them  all  united.  The  following  is  a  verbal 
translation  of  it. 

"The  saffron  coloured  morning  was  spread  over  the 
whole  earth;  and  Jupiter,  rejoicing  in  his  thunder,  held 
an  assembly  of  the  gods  upon  the  highest  top  of  the  many- 
headed  Olympus.  He  himself  made  a  speech  to  them, 
and  all  the  gods  together  listened. 

"Hear  me,  all  ye  gods,  and  all  ye  goddesses,  that  I  may 
say  what  my  scul  in  my  breast  commands.  Let  not  there- 
fore any  female  deity,  or  any  male,  endeavour  to  break 
though  my  world;  but  all  consent  together,  that  I  may 
most  quickly  perform  these  works.  Whomsoever,  there- 
fore, of  the  gods  I  shall  understand  to  have  gone  by  him- 
self, and  of  his  own  accord  to  give  assistance  either  to  the 
Trojans  or  the  Greeks,  he  shall  return  to  Olympus  shame- 
full  v  wounded  ;  or  I  will  throw  him,  seized  by  me,  into 
dark  hell,  very  fir  off,  whether  the  most  deepabyss  is  under 
the  earth ;  whether  there  are  iron  gates,  and  a  brazen 
threshold,  us  far  within  hell,  as  heaven  is  distant  from  the 
earth.  He  will  then  know,  by  how  much  I  am  the  most 
powerful  of  all  the  gods. 

"  But  come,  try,  O  ye  gods,  that  ye  may  all  see.  Hang 
down  the  golden  chain  from  heaven,  hang  upon  it  all  ye 
gods,  and  all  ye  goddesses;  but  ye  shall  not  be  able  to 
draw  from  heaven  to  the  ground  Jupiter  the  great  coun- 
sellor, though  ye  strive  ever  so  much.  But  when  I  after- 
wards shall  be  willing  to  draw,  I  shall  lift  both  the  earth 
itself,  and  the  sea  itself.  Then  I  shall  bind  the  chain  round 
the  top  of  Olympus,  and  they  shall  all  hang  aloft.  For 
so  much  am  I  above  gods  and  above  men." 

With  this  most  masterly  passage  of  the  greatest  master 
of  the  sublime,  of  all  antiquity,  the  writer,  who  probably 
had  the  greatest  natural  and  acquired  advantages  of  any 
mortal  for  perfecting  a  genius  ;  let  the  following  verbal 
translation  of  a  passage  from  writings  penned  by  one 
brought  up  a  shepherd,  and  in  a  country  were  learning  was 
not  thought  of,  be  compared  ;  that  the  difference  may 
appear.  In  this  comparison,  I  know  of  no  unfair  advan- 
tage given  the  inspired  writer.     For  bo:h  fragments  are 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  419 

literally  translated ;  and  if  the  critics  are  right  the  Hebrew 
original  is  verse,  as  well  as  the  Greek. 

"  O  Lord,  my  God,  thou  art  very  great !  Thou  art  cloth- 
ed with  honour  and  nmjestv!  Who  coverest  thyself  with 
light  as  with  a  garment :  who  stretchest  out  the  heavens 
like  a  canopy.  Who  layeth  the  beams  of  his  chambers 
in  the  waters  :  who  makcth  the  clouds  his  chariots :  who 
walketh  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind.  Who  maketh  his 
angels  spirits ;  his  ministers  a  flame  of  fire.  Who  laid 
the  foundation  of  the  earth,  that  it  should  not  be  moved 
for  ever.  Thou  coveredst  it  with  the  deep,  as  with  a 
garment :  the  waters  stood  above  the  mountains.  At  thy 
rebuke  they  fled  ;  at  the  voice  of  thy  thunder  they  hasted 
away.  They  go  up  by  the  mountains ;  they  go  down  by 
the  rallies  unto  the  place  thou  hast  founded  for  them. 
Thou  hast  set  a  bound,  that  they  may  not  pass  over  ;  that 
they  turn  not  again  to  cover  the  earth. 

"  O  Lord,  how  manifold  are  thy  works  ?  In  wisdom 
hast  thou  made  them  all.  The  earth  is  full  of  thy  riches. 
So  is  the  great  and  wide  sea,  wherein  are  creatures,  innu- 
merable, both  small  and  great.  There  go  the  ships.  There 
is  that  leviathan,  which  thou  hast  made  to  play  therein. 
These  all  wait  upon  thee,  that  thou  mayest  give  them 
their  food  in  due  season.  That  thou  givest  them  they 
gather.  Thou  openest  thy  hand :  they  are  filled  with  good. 
Thou  hidest  thy  face  :  they  are  troubled.  They  die,  and 
return  to  their  dust.  Thou  sendest  forth  thy  spirit ;  they 
are  created  ;  and  thou  renevwst  the  face  of  the  earth.  The 
glory  of  the  Lord  shall  endure  forever.  The  Lord  shall 
rejoice  in  his  works.  He  looketh  on  the  earth,  and  it  tremb- 
leth.  He  toucheth  the  hills  ;  and  they  smoke.  I  will 
sing  unto  the  Lord  as  long  as  i  live.  I  will  sing  praise  unto 
my  God,  while  I  have  my  being." 

I  appeal  to  every  reader,  whether  the  former  of  these 
two  fragments  is  not,  when  compared  with  the  latter,  a 
school-boy's  theme,  a  capucinade,  or  a  Grub-street  ballad, 
rather  than  a  production  fit  to  be  named  with  any  part  of 
the  inspired  writings.  Nor  is  it  only  in  one  instance,  that 
the  superiority  of  the  Scripture  stile  to  all  human  compo- 
sitions appear.  But  taking  the  whole  body  of  sacred  poesy, 
and  the  whole  of  profane,  and  considering  the  character 
of  the  Jehovah  of  the  former,  and  the  Jupiter  of  the  latter, 


420  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

every  one  must  see  the  difference  to  be  out  of  all  reach  of 
comparison.  .And,  what  is  wonderfully  remarkable,  Scrip* 
ture  poesy,  though  penned  bv  a  number  of  different  hands, 
as,  Moses,  David,  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  and  the  rest,  in  very 
distant  ages,  gives  a  distinct  and  uniform  idea  of  the  Su- 
preme Being,  no  where  deviating  into  any  thing  mean,  or 
unworthy  of  him  ;  and  still  even  where  he  is  spoke  of  in 
a  manner  suited  to  the  general  apprehension  of  mankind, 
his  dignity  and  majesu  duly  kept  up.  Whereas,  there  is 
not  one  of  the  ancient  Heathen  poets,  who  gives  a  con- 
sistent idea  of  the  Supreme  God,  or  keeps  up  his  charac- 
ter throughout,  Homer,  in  the  same  poem,  describes  his 
Jupiter  with  a  great  deal  of  majesty,  and  in  another  repre- 
sents him  as  deceived  by  his  wife  Juno,  and  overcome  with 
lust  and  sleep,  while  the  inferior  deities  are  playing  what 
tricks  they  please,  contrary  to  his  intention.  In  short, 
the  Supreme  God  is  by  Homer  described  as  a  bully  ;  by 
Virgil,  as  a  tyrant ;  by  Ovid,  as  a  beastly  voluptuary  ; 
and  by  Lucretius,  as  a  lazy  drone.  So  that,  if  the  cavils 
of  the  opposers  of  Revelation,  with  respect  to  the  style 
of  Scripture,  were  of  so  much  more  consequence  than 
they  are  ;  it  would  still  be  the  easiest,  and  indeed  the  only 
rational  way  of  accounting  for  the  amazing  superiority  of 
those  writings  to  the  greatest  human  productions,  in  spite 
of  the  disadvantages,  of  want  of  learning,  andthelike,  which 
the  sacred  penmen  laboured  under ;  to  ascribe  the  senti- 
ments in  them  to  Divine  Inspiration. 

Other  objections,  as,  that  the  genuineness  of  some  of 
the  books  of  the  Bible  has  been  disputed  ;  those  of  vari- 
ous readings;  of  seeming  contradictions;  of  doubtful 
interpretations;  of  obscurity  in  the  Scripture  Chronology, 
and  the  like  ;  all  these  difficulties  are  sufficiently  cleared 
up  by  the  learned  apologists  for  Revealed  Religion.  Nor 
does  it  suit  the  purpose  of  this  work  to  obviate  all  objec- 
tions. Nor  is  it  indeed  necessary  for  the  candid  inquirer 
into  the  truth  of  Divine  Revelation,  to  attend  to  the  vari- 
ous difficulties  started  by  laborious  cavillers.  It  is  of  very 
sm  ill  consequence,  what  circumstantial  difficulties  may 
be  raised  about  a  scheme,  whose  grand  lines  and  principal 
figures  show  its  Author  to  be  Divine  ;  as  will,  it  is  pre- 
sumed, appear  to  every  ingenuous  mind,  on  a  careful  peru- 
sal of  the  following  general  view  of  the  whole  body  of 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  421 

Revelation.  Some  other  objections  are  occasionally  obvi- 
ated in  other  parts  of  this  fourth  Book  ;  and  for  a  full 
view  of  the  controversy  between  the  opposers  and  defend- 
ers of  Revealed  Religion,  the  reader  may  consult  the  au- 
thors on  that  subject,  recommended  page  one  hundred  and 
sixty.  In  whose  writings  he  will  find  full  answers  to  the 
most  trivial  objections;  and  will  observe,  that  the  cavils 
started  from  time  to  time,  by  the  Deistical  writers,  have 
all  been  fully  considered,  and  completely  answered  over 
and  over ;  so  that  nothing  new  has  been,  for  many  years 
past,  or  is  likely  ever  to  be,  advanced  on  the  subject. 


SECTION  II. 

A  compendious  View  of  the  Scheme  of  Divine  Revelation. 

HOLY  Scripture  comprehends  (though  penned  by  a 
number  of  different  authors,  who  lived  in  ages  ven  dis- 
tant from  one  another)  a  consistent  and  uniform  scheme 
of  all  things  that  are  necessary  to  be  known  and  attended 
to  by  mankind.  Nor  is  there  any  original  writing  beside", 
that  does  this.  It  presents  us  with  a  view  of  this  w  or  d 
before  its  change  from  a  chaos  into  an  habitable  state.  It 
gives  us  a  rational  account  of  the  procedure  of  the  Almigh- 
ty Author  in  forming  and  reducing  it  into  a  condition  fit  for 
being  the  seat  of  living  inhabitants,  and  a  theatre  for  action. 
It  gives  an  account  of  the  origination  of  mankind  ;  repre- 
senting the  first  of  the  species  as  brought  into  behi;  n 
purpose  for  discipline  and  obedience.  It  gives  a  genei  1 
account  of  the  various  dispensations  and  transactions  of 
God  with  regard  to  the  rational  inhabitants  of  this  world  ; 
keeping  in  view  throughout,  and  no  where  losing  sight  of, 
the  great  and  important  end  of  their  creation,  the  training 
them  up  to  goodness  and  virtue,  in  order  to  happiness. 
Every  where  inculcating  that  one  grand  lesson,  which  if 
mankind  could  but  be  brought  to  learn,  it  were  no  great 
matter  what  they  were  ignorant  of,  and  without  which  all 
other  knowledge  is  of  no  real  value  ;  to  wit,  That  obc^:- 
e  icetothe  Supreme  Governor  of  the  Universe  is  the  cer- 
tain, and  the  only  means  of  happiness  ;  and  that  vice  and 
irregularity  are  both  naturally  and  judicially  the  causes  of 
miserv  and  destruction.     It  shows  innumerable  instances 


422  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

of  the  Divine  displeasure  against  wickedness ;  and  in  order 
to  give  a  foil  display  of  the  fatal  consequences  of  vice,  it 

gives  some  account,  either  historically  or  prophetically,  of 
the  general  state  of  this  world  in  its  various  }  criods  from 
the  time  of  its  being  made  habitable  from  a  chaos,  to  its 
reduction  again  to  a  chaos  by  fire,  at  the  consummation  of  all 
things.  Comprehending  most  of  the  great  events  which  have 
happened,  or  arc  yet  to  happen,  to  most  of  the  great  em- 
pires and  kingdoms,  and  exhibiting  in  brief,  most  of  what 
is  to  pass  on  the  theatre  of  the  world.  Seiting  forth  to 
the  view  of  mankind,  for  their  instruction,  a  variety  of 
examples  of  real  characters  the  most  remarkable  for  vir- 
tue, or  wickedness,  with  most  signal  and  striking  instances 
of  the  Divine  approbation  of,  or  displeasure  against  them. 
It  is  only  in  scripture,  that  a  rational  account  of  this 
world  is  given.  For  in  scripture,  it  is  represented  as 
God's  world.  The  inhabitants  of  it  are  every  where  spo- 
ken of,  as  no  other  way  of  consequence,  than  in  the  view 
of  their  being  his  creatures,  formed  for  Religion,  and  an 
immortal  state  of  happiness  after  this  life,  and  at  present 
under  the  laws  and  rules  of  discipline,  to  train  them  up  for 
the  great  end  of  their  being.  Even  in  the  mere  historical 
parts,  there  is  always  an  eye  to  the  true  state  of  things. 
Instead  of  informing  us,  that  one  prince  conquered  another^ 
the  scripture  account  is,  that  it  pleased  God  to  deliver  the 
one  into  the  hand  of  the  other.  Instead  of  ascribing  the 
revolutions  of  kingdoms  and  empires  to  the  counsels  of 
the  wise  or  the  valour  of  the  mighty,  the  scripture  account 
of  them  is,  that  they  were  the  effect  of  'die  Divine  disposal, 
brought  about  by  Him,  "  in  whose  hand  are  the  hearts  of 
kings,  who  turns  them  which  way  he  pleases  ;  and  who 
puts  one  down,  and  sets  another  up  ;  who  does  in  the  ar- 
mies oi  heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth, 
whatever  seems  good  to  Him,  and  whose  hand  none  can 
stay,  or  say, —  \\  hat  dost  thou?"  The  view  given  in 
scripture  oi  our  world,  and  its  inhabitants,  and  their  af- 
fairs, is  that  which  must  appear  to  an  eye  observing  from 
above,  not  from  the  earth,  tor  scripture  alone  gives  ac- 
count of  the  original  causes  of  things,  the  true  springs  of 
events,  and  declares  the  end  from  the  beginning  :  which 
shows  it  to  be  given  by  one  who  saw  through  all  futurity, 
and  by  the  same,  who  has  been  from  the  beginning  at  the 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  423 

head  of  the  affairs  of  the  world,  who  governs  the  world,  and 
therefore  knew  how  to  give  an  account  (so  far  as  to  his 
wisdom  seemed  fit  to  discover)  of  the  whole  current  and 
course  of  events  from  the  creation  to  the  consummation. 
We  have  no  where,  but  in  scripture,  a  display  of  the 
wonders  of  Divine  mercv  for  a  fallen  guiltv  race  of  beings. 
We  have  no  rational  account  any  where  else  of  a  method 
for  restoring  a  world  ruined  by  vice.  In  scripture  we 
have  this  great  desideratum :  Holy  scripture  shines  forth 
conspicuous  by  its  own  native  heavenly  splendor ;  enlight- 
ening the  darkness,  and  clearing  the  doubts,  which,  from 
the  beginning  of  the  world,  hung  upon  the  minds  of  the 
wisest  and  best  of  men,  with  respect  to  the  important 
points,  of  the  most  acceptable  manner  of  worshipping  God; 
of  the  possibility  of  gaining  the  Divine  favour  and  the  par- 
don of  sin  ;  of  a  future  state  of  retribution  ;  and  of  the 
proper  immortality,  or  perpetual  existence  of  the  soul : 
giving  more  clear,  rational  and  sublime  notions  of  God; 
teaching  a  more  perfect  method  of  worshipping  and  serv- 
ing Him  ;  and  prescribing  to  mankind  a  distinct  and  ex- 
plicit rule  of  life,  guarded  with  the  most  awful  sanctions, 
and  attended  with  the  most  unquestionable  evidences,  in- 
ternal and  external,  of  Divine  authority.  Bringing  to 
light  various  important  and  interesting  truths,  which  no 
human  sagacity  could  have  found  out;  and  establishing 
and  confirming  others,  which,  though  pretended  to  have 
been  discoverable  by  reason,  yet  greatly  needed  superior 
confirmation.  Not  only  enlightening  those  countries,  on 
which  its  direct  beams  have  shone  with  their  full  splendor; 
but  breaking  through  the  clouds  of  heathenism,  and  super- 
stition, darting  some  of  its  Divine  rays  to  the  most  distant 
parts  of  the  world  and  affording  a  glimmering  light  to  the 
most  barbarous  nations,  without  which  they  had  been  bu- 
ried in  total  darkness  and  ignorance  as  to  moral  and  reli- 
gious knowledge.  Drawing  aside  the  veil  of  time,  and 
opening  a  prospect  into  eternity,  and  the  world  of  spirits. 
Exhibiting  a  scheme  of  things  incomparably  more  sublime 
than  is  any  where  else  to  be  found  ;  in  which  various  or- 
ders of  being,  angels,  archangels,  thrones,  dominions,  prin- 
cipalities, and  powers,  rise  in  their  several  degrees,  and 
tower  above  another  towards  the  perfection  of  the  Divine 
Nature  ;  in  comparison  of  which,  however,  they  arc  all  a?> 


424  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

nothing.  Holy  scripture,  in  a  word,  takes  in  whatever  of 
gnat  or  good,  can  be  conceived  by  a  rational  mind  in  the 
present  state  ;  whatever  can  be  of  use  for  raising,  refining, 
and  spiritualising  human  nature  ;  for  making  this  world  a 
paradise,  and  mankind  angels  ;  for  qualifying  them  for  that 
eternal  bliss  and  glory,  which  was  the  end  of  their  being. 
And  it  is  highly  probable,  that  while  the  world  stands, 
learned  and  inquisitive  men  will  be  from  time  to  time  dis- 
covering new  wonders  of  Divine  wisdom  in  that  inexhaust- 
ible treasure.  The  continual  improvement  of  knowledge 
of  all  kinds,  and  the  farther  and  farther  completion  of  pro- 
phecy, give  reason  to  expect  this.  They,  who  know  what 
amazing  lights  have  been  struck  out  by  Mede,  Locke,  and 
a  few  others  who  have  pursued  their  plan,  will  readily 
agree,  that,  as  a  century  or  two  past  have  shown  us  the 
Bible  in  a  light,  in  which  it  was  probably  never  seen  before, 
since  the  apostolic  age  ;  so  a  century  or  two  to  come  may 
(if  mankind  do  not  give  over  the  study  of  scripture)  exhibit 
it  in  a  light  at  present  inconceivable. 

That  it  may  in  a  satisfactory  manner  appear,  how  import- 
ant the  subjects,  how  wide  the  extent,  and  how  nobie  the 
discoveries  of  Scripture  are  ;  it  may  be  proper  to  trace  the 
outlines  of  the  vast  and  various  prospect  it  exhibits,  I 
mean,  to  range  in  order  the  principal  subjects  of  Revela- 
tion, as  they  lie  in  the  holy  books.  This  I  will  endeavour 
to  draw  out  of  the  Bible  itself,  in  such  a  manner  as  one 
wholly  a  stranger  to  our  systems  and  controversies,  and 
who  had  studied  Scripture  only,  might  be  supposed  to  do  it. 

Holy  Scripture  begins  with  informing  us,  that  God  was 
the  Author  and  Greator  of  the  Universe  ;  which  truth  is 
also  consistent  with  human  reason  ;  and  the  direct  conse- 
quence to  be  drawn  from  it  is,  That  all  creatures  and 
things  are  his,  and  that  all  thinking  beings  ought  to  dedi- 
cate themselves  to  his  service,  to  whom  they  owe  their  ex- 
istence, and  whatever  they  have,  or  hope  for.  As  the  Al- 
mighty Creator  is  a  pure  spirit,  wholly  separate  from  mat- 
ter, or  corporeal  organs  of  any  kind,  it  is  evident,  that 
what  he  produces,  he  does  by  an  immediate  act  of  voli- 
tion. His  power  reaching  to  the  performance  of  all  pos- 
sible things,  nothing  can  resist  his  will.  So  that  his  wil- 
ling, or  desiring  a  thing  to  be,  is  producing  it.  His  say 
ing,  or  thinking,  Let  there  be  liglit,  is  creating  light. 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  42$ 

Scripture  informs  us,  that  the  human  species  begun  in 
two  persons,  one  of  each  sex,  created  by  God,  and  by  him- 
self put  directly  in  the  mature  state  of  life  ;  whereas  all 
the  particulars  of  the  species,  who  have  been  since  pro- 
duced, have  been  created  indeed  by  God,  but  introduced, 
into  human  life  by  the  instrumentality  of  parents.  We 
learn  from  scripture,  that  the  first  of  our  species  were 

brought  into  being,  not  onlv  in  a  state  of  innocence  or  capa- 

..."  \  ' 

citv  for  virtue,  but  likewise  naturally  immortal,  being  blest 

with  constitutions  so  formed,  that  they  would  of  themselves 

have  continued  uninjured  by  time,  till  it  should  have  been 

thought  proper  to  remove  the  species  to  a  new  and  more 

spiritual  state. 

The  appointment  of  one  day  in  seven,  as  a  day  of  rest ; 
the  sanctifying  a  seventh  part  of  our  time  to  religious  pur- 
poses, was  an  ordinance  worthy  of  God  ;  and  the  account 
we  have  in  scripture  of  its  having  been  appointed  so  early, 
by  Divine  authority,  and  as  law  for  the  whole  world,  ex- 
plains how  we  come  to  find  the  observance  of  a  seventh  day 
as  sacred,  by  universal  custom,  mentioned  in  such  ancient 
writers  as  Homer,  Hesiod,  and  Callimachus.  Nor  can  any 
appointment  be  imagined  more  fit  for  keeping  up  an  ap- 
pearance of  religion  among  mankind,  than  this.  Stated 
solemnities,  returning  periodically,  have,  by  the  wisdom 
of  all  lawgivers,  been  thought  the  best  expedients,  for 
keeping  up  the  lasting  remembrance  of  remarkable  events. 
And  it  is  evident,  that  no  event  better  deserved  to  be  kept 
in  remembrance  than  that  of  the  completing  of  the  work 
of  creation  ;  till  such  time  as  the  work  of  redemption, 
the  second  and  best  creation  of  man,  was  completed  in  the 
resurrection  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  Upon  which 
the  first  christians  sanctified  the  first  day  of  the  week,  and, 
according  to  the  best  authority  now  to  be  had,  the  seventh 
likewise  ;  though  neither  with  the  strictness  required  by 
the  Mosaic  constitution  ;  but  with  that  decent  liberty,  with 
which  Christianity  makes  its  votaries  free. 

The  design  of  creating  the  human  species,  was  to  put 
them  in  the  way  toward  such  a  happiness  as  should  be  fit 
and  suitable  to  the  nature  of  free  moral  agents.  This  ren- 
dered it  necessary  to  place  them  in  a  state  of  discipline  ; 
the  onlv  possible  method  for  learning  virtue;  and  weaccord- 

3  H 


4-2G  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

ingly  find  a  lesson  of  obedience*  prescribed  them  imme- 
diately on  their  coming  into  existence.  A  law,  to  all  ap- 
pearance, very  easy  to  keep.  Only  to  abstain  wholly  from 
one  particular  indulgence,  being  at  liberty,  within  the 
bounds  of  moderation,  with  respect  to  others.  In  the 
state  of  things  at  that  time,  it  would  not  have  been  easy 
to  prescribe  a  particular  trial,  which  should  not  turn  upon 
the  government  of  passion  or  appetite.  Being  the  only 
two  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  they  could  not  be  guilty  of 
a  breach  of  duty  to  fellow-creatures.  And  with  the  fre- 
quent intercourse,  scripture  gives  us  reason  to  think,  they 
had  with  angels,  and  celestial  beings,  they  could  hardly 
bring  themselves  to  any  positive  violation  of  their  duty  to 
God ;  and  were  under  no  temptation  to  neglect  it.  That 
they  should  fall  into  this  fatal  transgression  of  the  first  law 
given  for  trial  of  their  obedience,  was  to  be  expected  from 
beings  newly  created,  and  wholly  unexperienced  and  un- 
principled. Thus  we  see,  that  young  children  have  no 
fixed  principles  sufficient  to  prevent  their  yielding  to 
temptation  :  for  virtue  is  an  attachment  to  rectitude,  and 
abhorrence  of  all  moral  evil,  arising  from  reason,  experi- 
ence, and  habit.  But  though  this,  and  other  deviations 
from  obedience,  were  to  be  expected  from  the  first  of  man- 
kind, it  does  not  follow,  that  such  deviations  were  wholly 
innocent.  Pitiable  undoubtedly  their  case  was,  and  the 
rather,  in  that  they  were  misled  by  temptation  from  a 
wicked  being  more  experienced  than  themselves.  Accord- 
ingly their  case,  and  that  of  the  rest  of  the  species,  has 
found  such  pity,  and  such  interpositions  have  been  made 
in  their  favour,  as  we  have  reason,  from  scripture,  to 
suppose  other  offending  orders  of  beings,  particularly  the 
fjllen  angels,  have  not  been  favoured  with.  For  it  is  ex- 
pressly said,  that  nothing  equivalent  to  the  christian  scheme 
restoration  and  salvation  has  been  planned  out  in  favour 
of  them  ;  but  that  they  are  left  to  the  consequences  of 
their  disobedience. 

The  natural  tendency  of  the  least  deviation  from  moral 
rectitude  is  so  dreadfully  and  extensively  fatal,  as  to  render 
it  highly  necessary  that  the  righteous  Governor  of  the 
World  should  inflict  some  signal  and  permanent  mark  of 

*  This  point  is  not  here  staged  as  the  author  now  thinks  it  ongfit.     See  the 
note,  page  253. 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  427 

his  displeasure  on  the  occasion  of  the  first  transgression  of 
the  first  of  the  species.  As  a  wise  father,  who  has  found  his 
child  once  guilty  of  a  breach  of  truth,  or  any  other  foul 
crime,  seems  at  first  to  disbelieve  it,  and  then  punishes 
him  with  the  loss  of  his  favour  for  a  very  long  time  after, 
and  otherwise  ;  in  such  a  manner  as  may  be  likely  to  make 
a  lasting  impression  on  his  mind,  and  deter  him  from  a  re- 
petition of  his  fault.  Scripture  informs  us,  accordingly ,  that 
immediately  upon  the  first  offence,  the  transgressors,  and 
in  them  the  whole  species,  were  sunk,  from  their  natural 
immortality,  and  condemned  to  a  state  obnoxious  to  death. 
Whether  eating  the  forbidden  fruit  was  not  the  natural 
as  well  as  judicial  cause  of  disease  and  death,  it  is  needless 
to  dispute  :  but  what  is  said  of  the  tree  of  life  in  the  book 
of  Genesis,  and  afterwards  in  the  Apocalypse,  as  if  it  were 
a  natural  antidote,  or  cure  for  mortality,  and  the  means  of 
preserving  life,  is  very  remarkable. 

Death,  the  consequence  of  the  first  transgression,  and 
which  has  been  merited  by  innumerable  succeeding  of- 
fences, was  pronounced  upon  mankind,  on  purpose  to 
be  to  all  ages  a  standing  memorial  of  the  Divine  displea- 
sure against  disobedience.  With  the  same  view  also, 
scripture  informs  us,  the  various  natural  evils,  of  the  bar- 
renness of  the  earth,  inclement  seasons,  and  the  other  grie- 
vances, under  which  nature  at  present  groans,  were  inflict- 
ed ;  that  men  might  no  where  turn  their  eyes  or  their 
thoughts,  where  they  should  not  meet  a  caveat  against  vice 
and  irregularity. 

Here  I  cannot  help  observing,  by  the  by,  in  how  ridic- 
ulous a  light  the  scripture  account  of  the  fatal  and  import- 
ant consequences  of  the  first  transgression  shows  the 
usual  superficial  apologies  made  by  wretched^  mortals  in 
excuse  of  their  vices  and  follies.  One  crime  is  the  effect 
of  thoughtlessness.  They  did  not,  forsooth,  consider  how 
bad  such  an  action  was.  Another  is  a  natural  action. 
Drunkenness  is  only  an  immoderate  indulgence  of  a  natu- 
ral appetite ;  and  so  on.  Have  such  excuses  as  these  been 
thought  sufficient  in  the  case  before  us?  The  eating  of  the 
forbidden  fruit  was  only  indulging  a  natural  appetite 
directly  contrary  to  the  Divine  command.  And  it  is  very 
likely,  that  our 'first  parents  did  not  duly  attend  to  all  the 
probable  consequences  of  their  transgression.     But  nei- 


428  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

th<  r  of  these  apologies,  nor  the  inexperience  of  the  offen- 
ders, nor  iheir  being  overcome  by  temptation,  were  suf- 
ficient to  avert  the  Divine  displeasure,  the  marks  of  which, 
we  and  our  world  bear  to  this  hour.  Disobedience  to  a 
known  law  given  by  our  Creator  and  Governor,  is  always 
to  be  iooked  upon  with  horror.  And  no  false  apology 
ought  to  be  thought  of:  for  we  may  assure  ourselves,  none 
will  be  admitted  before  our  All-se"cing  Judge,  who  is  not 
to  be  deceived. 

The  next  remarkable  object  of  our  consideration,  in  this 
general  survey  of  scripture,  is  a  dark  prophecv  of  a  eon- 
quest  to  be  gained,  by  one  miraculously  descended  of  our 
species,  over  the  grand  enemy  and  first  seducer  of  man- 
kind ;  which  also  implies  some  comfortable  hopes  of  a  res- 
toration of  the  human  race  to  the  Divine  favour. 

The  next  dispensation  of  heaven,  which  we  read  of  in 
scripture,  is  that  most  awful  and  remarkable  judgment 
of  the  universal  deluge,  by  which  the  human  race  were, 
for  the  universal  corruption  of  their  manners,  at  once 
swept  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  die  world  cleansed  from 
the  impurity  of  its  inhabitants.  Nothing  can  be  conceiv- 
ed more  proper  for  making  a  powerful  and  lasting  im- 
pression on  mankind,  or  convincing  them  of  the  Divine 
abhorrence  of  vice  and  disobedience,  than  to  be  informed 
that  it  occasioned  the  cutting  off,  or  unmaking,  the  whole 
species,  except  eight  persons,  whom  their  singular  virtue 
preserved  amidst  the  general  wreck  of  nature! 

It  is  remarkable,  that  after  the  flood,  we  find  the  period 
of  man's  life  considerably  reduced  below  the  standard  of 
it  in  the  Antediluvian  age.  This  is  no  more  than  was  to 
be  expected*  considering  what  use  the  ancients  had  made 
of  the  great  length  of  life  they  enjoyed.  The  abridging 
the  term  of  human  life  is  also*  a  standing  memorial  of  the 
Divine  displeasure  against  vice.  It  naturally  tends,  by- 
bringing  death  nearer  the  view  of  even  the  youngest,  to 
lessen  men's  attachment  to  the  present  state,  and  lead  them 
to  think  of  one  better  and  more  lasting.  By  this  means 
also,  the  opportunities  of  offending  being  lessened,  the 
guilt  and  punishment  of  wretched  mortals  conies  to  be  very 
considerably  diminished. 

The  laws  given  to  Xoah  upon  his  coming  out  of  the 
ark,  seems  to  be  intended  for  mankind  in  general,  as  he 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  429 

was  the  common  father  of  all  who  have  lived  since  his 
time.  And  we  know  of  no  general  repeal  of  them.  The 
liberty  of  killing  animals  for  food  is  derived  wholly  from 
hence;  a  right  which  we  could  not  otherwise  pretend  to. 
Nor  can  the  opposers  of  the  Divine  authority  ol  scripture, 
show  any  pretence  for  killing  a  living  creature  for  food, 
or  any  shadow  of  the  title  which  the-  human  species  have 
to  the  life  of  any  creature  whatever,  but  this  grant  from  the 
Author  of  life,  and  Maker  of  all  creatures,  w  ho  alone  has  a 
right  to  dispose  of  the  lives  of  his  creatures. 

The  command  for  putting  to  dea1h  every  murderer 
without  exception,  which  law  is  no  where  repealed,  seems 
effectually  to  cut  off  all  power  of  pardoning  <hat  atrocious 
crime.  And  many  crowned  heads  have  according!}  made  it 
a  rule  never  to  extend  their  mercy  to  offenders  of  that  sort. 

As  to  the  prohibition  of  blood,  its  obligation  en  us  has 
been  disputed.  But,  as  the  blood  is  the  seat  of  almost 
every  disease,  and  is  a  gross,  unwholesome,  and  nauseous 
substance,  consisting  of  earth,  salt,  and  phlegm,  the  best 
wav  is  evidentlv  to  abstain  from  it,  and  so  make  sure  of 
avoiding  a  breach  of  a  prohibition.  And  indeed,  in  all 
doubtful  cases,  prudence  w  ill  always  direct  to  keep  on  the 
safe  side.  At  the  same  time,  the  excessive  scrupulousness 
of  the  Jexvs  about  the  least  particle  of  blood  is  absurd. 
The  prohibition  is  only  against  eating  an  animal  with  the 
blood  in  it.  And  the  intention  was  probably  two-fold.  One 
forthe  advantage  of  health;  tt  e  other  religious;  that,  in  shed- 
ding the  blood  of  the  animal,  a  libation  or  offering  might 
thereby  be  paid  to  the  Lord  of  life,  and  Giver  of  ali  gifts. 

The  account  we  have  in  scripture  of  the  building  of  the 
tower  of  Babel,  the  confusion  of  tongues,  and  scattering 
the  people  abroad  into  different  countries,  is  most  naturally 
solved  by  supposing  their  desig-n  to  have  been,  to  set  up 
an  universal  empire,  whose  established  religion  should  be 
idolatry  and  polytheism.  This  being  quite  contrary  to  the 
Divine  intention  in  blessing  mankind  with  a  revelation 
from  himself,  it  was  not  fit,  that  it  should  be  suffered  to 
take  place,  at  a  time  when  there  was  no  nation  in  the  w  orlci 
in  which  the  worship  of  the  true  God  prevailed.  The 
disappointment  of  such  a  design  is  therefore  a  Divine  dis- 
pensation fit  to  be  recorded  in  scripture. 

The  destruction  of  the  cities  of  the  Plain,  for  their- 


450  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

abominable  and  unnatural  vices,  is  a  Divine  judgment  very 
fit  to  be  related  in  the  records  of  the  dispensations  of  God 
to  mankind.  For  such  exemplary  vengeance  on  the  inhab- 
itants of  whole  towns,  upon  kingdoms  and  empires,  and 
upon  the  whole  world  together,  as,  we  have  authentic  ac- 
counts of  in  scripture,  shows,  that  numbers,  instead  of  al- 
leviating, do  in  fact  aggravate  the  guilt  of  offenders,  and 
draw  down  a  swifter  and  surer  destruction.  When  we 
read  in  scripture  of  kingdoms  broken  in  pieces,  of  cities 
destroyed  by  fire  from  Heaven,  of  nations  partly  driven 
from  their  own  country,  and  scattered  abroad  over  the 
face  of  the  earth,  and  partly  given  up  to  be  massacred  by 
a  bloody  enemy  ;  and  cf  the  whole  inhabitants  of  the 
world  swept  at  once  into  a  watry  grave  ;  all  for  vices  fash- 
ionable in  those  times,  and  patronized  by  the  great ;  when 
we  read  such  accounts  of  the  effects  of  following  fashion 
and  imitating  great  examples,  we  must  have  very  little 
thought,  if  we  can  bring  ourselves  to  imagine,  that,  there 
is  any  safety  in  giving  up  conscience  to  fashion,  or  that 
such  an  excuse  will  at  all  alleviate  our  guilt,  or  punish- 
ment. While  we  are  in  tlie  full  pursuit  and  enjoyment  of 
folly  and  vice,  we  rejoice  in  going  along  with  the  multitude 
not  considering,  how  much  we  shall  wish  hereafter,  that 
we  had  been  singular  and  unfashionable,  like  the  illustri- 
ous heroes  of  ancient  times,  jXoah,  Lot,  and  Abraham,  who 
had  the  courage  to  stand  the  empty  raillery  of  their  con- 
temporaries; singular  in  their  virtue,  and  singular  in  the 
reward  of  it.  Those,  who  now  encourage  us  in  vice  and 
folly,  will  not  hereafter  assist  us  in  suffering  their  appoint* 
ed  consequences,  And  the  appearance  of  God,  angels, 
and  just  men,  on  the  side  of  virtue  at  last,  will  make  anoth- 
er sort  of  show  for  keeping  its  votaries  in  countenance, 
than  that  of  the  fine  folks  does  now  for  the  support  of  the 
opposite  practice. 

The  most  remarkable  instance  that  ever  was  given  of 
the  Divine  approbation,  and  distinguishing  favour  for  sin- 
gular goodness,  is  in  the  case  of Abraham.  This  venera- 
ble patriarch,  according  to  the  scripture  account,  was  a 
faithful  worshipper  of  the  true  God,  while  die  whole  world 
was  stink  in  idolatry  and  superstition.  He  is  on  that  ac- 
count honoured  with  the  glorious  titles  of  Father  of  the 
Faithful,  and  Friend  of  God  ;  appointed  head  ol  the  fam- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  431 

ilv,  from  whence  the  Messiah  was  to  spring  ;  and  his  pos- 
terity chosen  of  God  for  a  peculiar  people,  the  keepers  of 
the  Divine  oracles,  and  the  only  witnesses  for  the  true  God, 
against  an  idolatrous  world.     He  himself  is  called  from 
his  own  countrv,  and  directed  by  Divine  authority  to  re- 
move to  a  distant  land  ;  he  is  tried  and  improved  by  diffi- 
culties ;  for  hardships  are  often  marks  of  the  Divine  favour, 
rather  than  the  contrary.     That  the  honours  shown  him  in 
consequence  of  his  singular  piety  might  be  conspicuous 
to  the  whole  world,  they  do  not  drop  with  him  ;  but  are 
continued  to  his  posterity,  who  have  been,  and  are  likely 
to  be,  the  most  remarkable  people  on  earth,  and  distin- 
guished from  all  others,  as  long  as  the  world  lasts. 
'  It  is  very  remarkable,  that  there  is  hardly  a  great  cha- 
racter in  scripture,  in  which  we  have  not  an  express  account 
of  some  blemish.     A  very  strong  presumption,  that  the 
narration  is  taken  from  truth  ;  not  fancy.     Of  this  illustri- 
ous pattern  of  heroic  and  singular  virtue,  some  instances 
of  shameful  timidity,  and  diffidence  in  the  Divine  provi- 
dence, are  related.     Of  Moses  some  marks  of  peevishness 
are  by  himself  confessed.     The  character  of  the  divine 
psalmist  is  shaded  with  some  gross  faults.      Solomon,  the 
wisest  of  men,  is  recorded  to  have  been  guilty  of  the  great- 
est folly.     Several  of  the  prophets  are  censured  for  their 
misbehaviour.     The  weakness  and  timidity  of  the  apostles 
in  general,  in  forsaking  their  Master  in  his  extremity,  are 
faithfully  represented  by  themselves,  and  even  the  aggra- 
vated crime  of  denying  him  with  oaths  (to  say  nothing  of 
Judas'  treachery)  not  concealed.     This  is  not  the  strain 
of  a  romance.     The  inventors  of  a  plausible  story  would 
not  have  purposely  disparaged  the  characters  of  their  he- 
roes in  such  a  manner,  to  gain  no  rational  end  whatever. 

One  useful  and  noble  instruction  from  this  remarkable 
mixture  in  the  characters  of  the  scripture- worthies,  is,  That 
human  nature,  in  its  present  state,  is  at  best  greatly  defec- 
tive, and  liable  to  fatal  errors,  which  at  the  same  time,  if 
not  persisted  in,  but  reformed,  do  not  hinder  a  character 
from  being  predominately  good,  or  disqualify  a  person 
from  the  Divine  mercy  ;  which,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  has  been 
the  case  of  many  in  all  ages,  nations,  and  religions,  though 
none  perfect.  Which  Leaches  us  the  proper  course  we 
ought  to  take,  when  we  discover  in  ourselves  any  wicked 


432  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

tendency,  or  have  fallen  into  any  gross  error  ;  to  wit,  Not 
to  give  ourselves  up  to  despair;  but  to  resolve  bravely  to 
reform  it,  and  recover  our  virtue. 

We  are  told  in  scripture,  that  the  descendants  of  Abra- 
ham were,  by  a  peculiar  providence,  carried  into  Egypt. 
The  design  of  this  was,  probably,  to  communicate  to  that 
people,  the  parents  of  learning  in  those  early  times,  some 
knowledge  of  the  God  of  Abraham  which  might  remain 
after  they  were  gone  from  thence,  and  from  them  might 
spread  to  the  other  nations  around.  The  signal  miracles 
wrought  by  Moses  ;  the  ten  immediate  judgments  inflict- 
ed upon  the  people  of  Egypt;  the  deliverance  of  the  Is- 
raelites from  their  bondage,  with  a  high  hand,  in  open  de- 
fiance of  the  Egyptian  power,  under  the  conduct  of  a 
shepherd  ;  and  the  destruction  of  the  whole  Egyptian  drmy 
in  their  endeavour  to  stop  their  flight ;  these  conspicuous 
interpositions  ought  to  have  convinced  that  people,  that 
the  God  whom  the  Israelites  worshipped,  was  superior  to 
their  baffled  idol  and  brute  deities.  But  bigotry  and  the 
force  of  education,  are  hardly  to  be  conquered  by  any 
means  whatever. 

We  have  an  account  in  scripture  of  Moses"1  conducting 
the  Israelites  through  the  vast  desart  of  Arabia,  for  forty 
years  together,  with  a  continued  series  oi  miraculous  in- 
terpositions, (their  march  itself  one  of  the  greatest  mira- 
cles) in  order  to  their  establishment  in  the  country  appoint- 
ed them.  The  design  of  their  not  being  sooner  put  in 
possession  of  the  promised  country,  was,  as  we  are  inform- 
ed by  Aloses  himseif,  to  break  and  punish  their  perverse 
and  rebellious  temper,  for  which  reason  also,  only  two 
of  those,  who  came  out  of  Egypt,  reached  the  promised 
countrv  :  all  the  rest  dying:  in  the  wilderness.  Nor  did 
even  Moses  himself  attain  the  happiness  of  enjoying  the 
promised  land;  which  he  also  foresaw  he  should  not, 
and  therefore  could  have  no  selfish  views  for  himself,  in 
putting  himself  at  the  head  of  this  unruly  people,  to  wan- 
der ^U  his  life,  and  at  last  perish  in  a  howling  wilderness; 
when  he  might  have  lived  in  ease  and  luxury  in  the  Egyp- 
tian court.  And  that  he  had  no  scheme  for  aggrantiiz  rig 
his  family  is  evident  from  his  leaving  them  in  the  station 
of  common  Leyites. 

The  people  of  Israel,  arriving  at  the  promised  country, 


OF  REVEALED  RFXIGIONT.  433 

proceed  by  Divine  command,  to  extirpate  the  whole  peo- 
ple, who  then  inhabited  it,  and  to  take  possession  of  it 
for  themselves  and  their  posterity.  And  there  is  no  doubt, 
but  any  other  people  may,  at  any  time,  do  the  same,  upon 
the  same  authority.  For,  He,  who  made  the  earth,  may 
give  the  kingdoms  of  it  to  whom  he  will.  And  it  is  fit,  that 
they  who  are  not  worthy  to  inherit  a  good  land,  should 
be  driven  out  of  it.  Which  was  the  case  with  the  people, 
who  inhabited  the  land  of  Canaan,  upon  the  arrival  of  the 
Israelites  there.  For  at  that  time,  we  are  told,  the  meas- 
ure of  their  iniquity  was  full.  The  Israelites  therefore 
were  authorised  utterly  to  destroy  them,  for  their  enor- 
mous wickedness  ;  and  to  take  possession  of  their  coun- 
try, not  on  account  of  their  own  goodness  ;  but,  as  ex- 
pressly and  frequently  declared,  in  remembrance  of  Abra- 
ham, the  pious  founder  of  the  nation.  If  the  ancient  Pa?an 
inhabitants  of  Canaan  were  driven  out  before  the  Israel- 
ites, as  a  proof  of  God's  displeasure  against  tlteir  idolatry, 
and  other  crimes,  nothing  could  be  a  more  proper  warn- 
ing to  the  people  of  Israel  to  avoid  falling  into  the  same 
vices,  which  they  saw  bring  utter  extirpation  upon  ti.e 
natives  of  the  country.  Nor  could  any  surer  proof  be 
given  the  nations  around,  of  the  superiority  of  the  God 
of  the  Israelites,  to  the  idols  they  worshipped,  than  his 
giving  victory  to  his  votaries  (a  seemingly  fugitive,  unarm- 
ed, mixed  multitude  of  men,  women,  and  children)  over 
powerful  and  warlike  nations,  under  regular  discipline, 
and  in  their  own  country. 

Here  is  again,  another  pregnant  instance  of  the  differ- 
ent consequences  of  virtue,  and  of  vice.  Several  great 
and  powerful  kingdoms  overturned  for  national  wickedness, 

It  is  evident  from  the  strain  of  scripture,  that  the  peo- 
ple of  Israel  were  set  up  as  an  example  to  all  nations,  of 
God's  goodness  to  the  obedient,  and  severity  to  disobe- 
dience. It  was  from  the  beginning,  before  their  entrance 
upon  the  promised  land,  foretold  them  by  Moses,  that,  if 
they  continued  attached  to  the  worship  of  the  true  God, 
and"  obedient  to  his  laws,  they  should  be  great  and  happy 
above  all  nations  ;  the  peculiar  care  of  Heaven,  and  the 
repository  of  the  true  religion  :  But  if  they  revolted  from 
their  God,  and  degenerated  into  idolatry  and  vice,  they 
were,  as  a  punishment,  to  be  driven  out  of  their  couiury, 

3  I 


134  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

and  scattered  into  all  nations  under  heaven.  Which  pun- 
ishment was  also  to  turn  to  the  general  advantage  of  man- 
kind, as  the  more  pious  among  them  would  naturally  carry 
the  knowledge  of  the  true  God  into  all  the  countries  where 
they  were  scattered  ;  which  happened  accordingly. 

In  order  to  the  settlement  of  this  remarkable  people  in 
the  land  appointed  them,  as  a  theocracy,  or  government 
immediately  under  God,  a  body  of  civil  laws  is  given  them 
directly  from  heaven  by  the  hand  of  Moses ;  a  visible  su- 
pernatural glory,  called,  the  Shekinah,  abiding  constantly 
among  them,  as  an  emblem  of  the  Divine  Presence,  and 
an  oracle  to  have  recourse  to  in  all  difficulties.  A  civil 
polity  established  for  them,  calculated  in  the  best  manner 
possible  for  preventing  avarice,  ambition,  corruption,  ex- 
orbitant riches,  oppression,  or  sedition  among  themselves, 
and  attacks  from  the  surrounding  nations  upon  them,  or 
temptations  to  draw  them  into  a  desire  of  conquest :  in 
which  last  particulars,  the  Jewish  constitution  exceeded 
the  Spartan,  the  most  perfect  of  all  human  schemes  of 
government,  and  the  best  calculated  to  secure  universal 
happiness. 

In  a  theocracy,  or  Divine  government,  it  was  to  be 
expected,  that  religion  should  be  the  foundation  of  the 
civil  constitution.  And  had  that  people  been  able  to  bear 
a  purely  spiritual  scheme  of  religion,  there  is  no  doubt, 
but  such  a  one  had  been  given  them.  As  it  is,  we  plainly 
trace  their  laws  up  to  their  Divine  original.  In  the  decaloo-ue, 
the  foundation  of  their  whole  legislation,  we  find  the  very 
first  law  sets  forth  the  Divine  scheme  in  separating  them 
from  the  other  nations  of  the  world,  viz.  To  keep  up,  in 
one  country  at  least,  the  knowledge  and  worship  of  the 
true  God,  against  the  universal  idolatry  and  superstition, 
which  prevailed  in  the  rest  of  the  world.  The  foundation 
of  all  their  laws,  civil  and  religious,  is  therefore  laid  in  the 
first  commandment;  in  which  they  are  expressly  forbid  to 
hold  any  other  deity,  but  that  of  the  Supreme.  As  their 
whole  law  is  summed  up  in  the  two  great  precepts  of  lov- 
ing God,  and  loving  their  fellow-creatures. 

In  this  compend  of  the  original  law  given  to  the  Jews, 
it  is  extremely  remarkable,  that  these  two  grand  precepts 
are  directly  obligatory  upon  the  mind.  Which  proves 
either,  that  this  body  of  laws  was  given  by  Him  who  knows 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  435 

the  inward  motions  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  the  outward 
actions,  and  can  punish  the  irregularities  of  the  one,  as 
well  as  the  other,  or  that  the  author  of  it,  supposing  it  a 
mere  human  invention,  was  a  man  of  no  manner  of  thought 
or  consideration.  For  what  mere  human  lawgiver,  who  was 
in  his  senses,  could  think  of  making  a  prohibition,  which 
he  never  could  punish,  nor  so  much  as  know,  whether  his 
laws  were  kept  or  violated  ?  But  the  whole  character  of 
Moses,  the  wisdom  of  the  laws  he  framed  for  the  peo- 
ple of  Israel,  his  plan  of  government,  preferable  to  the 
best  human  schemes  and  which  aecoidingly  continued 
longer  than  any  of  them  ever  did,  without  the  addition,  or 
repeal  of  one  law  ;  these  show  this  most  ancient  and  ven- 
erable legislator  to  have  been  above  any  such  gross  absurdi- 
ty, as  would  have  appeared  in  making  laws  obligatory  on  the 
mind,  which  is  naturally  free,  and  whose  motions  are  cog- 
nizable by  no  judge,  but  the  Searcher  of  hearts  ;  and  all 
this  without  any  authority  above  human.  And,  that  inten- 
tions, as  well  as  actions,  were  accordingly  commonly  pun- 
ished in  that  people,  is  plain  from  their  history.  But  to  pro- 
ceed. 

In  the  second  commandment,  the  worship  even  of  the 
true  God,  by  images  or  representations,  is  prohibited,  as 
leading  naturally  to  unworthy  ideas  of  a  pure,  uncorpo- 
real,  infinitely  perfect  mind;  and  as  symbolizing  with  the 
idolatry  of  the  nations  round.  In  the  third,  the  due  rever- 
ence for  the  name,  and  consequently  the  attributes,  and 
honours  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  is  secured  by  a  most  awful 
threatening  against  those,  who  should  be  guilty  of  any 
irreverent  manner  of  treating  the  tremendous  name  of  God. 
And  the  fourth  sets  apart  one  day  in  seven,  as  sacred  to 
God  and  religion. 

The  remaining  six  laws  secure  the  observance  of  duty 
with  respect  to  the  life,  chastity,  property,  and  reputation 
of  others ;  which  set  of  laws  are  very  properly  founded  in 
due  reverence  to  parents,  from  whom  all  relative  and 
social  obligations  take  their  rise.  And  in  the  tenth  com- 
mandment, there  is  again  another  instance  suitable  to  the 
Divine  authority,  which  enacted  those  laws  ;  this  precept 
being  obligatory  on  the  mind  only,  and  having  no  regard 
to  any  outward  action. 

The  people  of  Israel,  as  observed  above,  were  of  a  tern- 


436  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

per  too  gross  and  earthly  to  be  capable  of  religion,  like 
t  i    Christian,  wholly  spiritual.     Those  early  ages  of  the 
■world  were  not  sufficiently  improved,  to  be,  in  general, 
fit  for  any  thing  above  mere   sense ;   or  however,  where 
more  likelv  to  be  affected  by  what  was  fit  to  act  upon  the 
senses,  than  what  might-be  addressed  to  the  understand- 
ing.    A  body  of  religious  ceremonies  was  therefore  in.. 
corporated  with,  and  made  a  part  of  their  polity,  or  con- 
stitution.     But  even  in  them,  the  ultimate  design  of  sepa- 
rating that  people  from  all  others,  is  ever}'  where  visible, 
and  almost  every  particular  holds  it  forth.     For  the  reli- 
gious cert  monies  mav  in  general  be  considered  as  tending 
to  give   typical  rt presentations  of  the  Christian  scheme, 
which  was  the  finishing  of  all  the  Divine  dispensations ; 
under  which  head  may  be  comprehended  the  various  sacri- 
fices and  obligations,  and  to  keep  the  people  continually 
in  mind  of  their  being  in   a  state  of  guilt  before  God ; 
for  which  purpose  the  ceremonial  purifications  were  pro- 
perly adapted ;  to  prevent  their  deviating  into  idolatry,  by 
giving  them  a  religion,  which  might  employ  them,  and  in 
some  respect  suit  their  gross  apprehensions;  accordingly, 
the  ceremonies  of  the  law  are  in  scripture  called  imperfect 
statutes,  and  carnal  ordinances;  to  prove  a  yoke  andpunish- 
ment  for  their  frequent  tendency  to  idolatry,  and  image- 
worship;  the  ceremonial  law  is   therefore  called  in  scrip- 
ture an  intolerable  yoke;  and  to  convey  many  noble  mor- 
als under  sensible  signs;   of  which  one  considerable  one 
may  be,   That  by  the  frequent  infliction  of  death  on  the 
victims  offered,  they  might  never  be  suffered  to  forget, 
that  death  is  the  wages  of  sin. 

We  have  in  scripture  the  history  of  that  most  extraordi- 
nary people,  partly  related,  and  partly  predicted,  during  a 
period  of  above  three  thousand  years,  making  a  continued 
series  of  miraculous  interpositions  (for  their  present  state  is 
as  much  so,  as  any  of  the  past)  in  which  the  various  unex- 
ampled vicissitudes  they  have  undergone,  and  which  thcy 
are  yet  to  pass  through,  are  evidently  owing  to  direct  inter- 
positions of  Divine  Providence,  and  are  all  along  the  im- 
mediate consequence  of  their  behaviour  to  their  God. 

Thus,  to  mention  a  few  remarkable  instances,  if  they 
murmur  against  Moses  in  the  wilderness,  and  worship 
idols  of  their  own  making,  their  carcasses  fall  there,  and 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  437 

none  of  them  is  allowed  to  enter  the  promised  land,  which 
is  given  to  their  children.  If  they  avaricious!)  ,  and  con- 
trary to  command,  keep  the  spoils  of  the  heathenish  ene- 
mv,  they  are  vanquished  in  the  next  engagement.  If  they 
be  obedient  to  God,  and  attack  their  enemies  in  full  con- 
fidence of  the  Divine  strength,  they  conquer.  If  one  king 
sets  up  the  worship  of  idols,  the  Divine  vengeance  pun- 
ishes him  and  his  people.  If  another  destroys  the  high 
places,  where  those  infamous  rives  were  celebrated,  ali  goes 
well  in  his  time.  If  a  succession  of  inspired  prophets  is 
raised  among  them,  to  keep  them  in  mind  of  their  allegi- 
ance to  God,  and  the)  put  them  to  death,  one  after  another, 
for  their  unacceptable  freedom,  in  reproving; the  prevailing 
vices  of  both  king  and  people,  and  deviate,  from  time  to 
time,  through  the  infection  of  the  neighbouring  countries, 
into  idolatry  and  vice,  they  are  carried  away  captive  to 
Babylon.  If  they  repent  of  their  fatal  degeneracy,  and 
remember  their  God,  whom  they  have  forsaken,  he  turns 
their  captivity,  and  brings  about  their  restoration  to  their 
own  land  once  more.  And  lastly,  if  they  fill  up  the  mea- 
sure of  their  iniquity  by  imbruing  their  wicked  hands  in 
the  blood  of  their  Messiah,  they  are  totally  rooted  out  of 
the  land,  which  was  given  to  their  fathers  ;  their  temple  is 
demolished ;  their  country  given  to  the  Gentiles,  and  them- 
selves so  scattered  abroad  in  all  nations,  that  greater  num- 
bers of  them  may  be  found  almost  in  any  country  than 
their  own  ;  and  to  this  dispersion  which  has  already  con- 
tinued for  upwards  of  seventeen  hundred  years,  is  added, 
according  to  the  prediction  of  Moses,  such  uncommon 
distress,  as  is  not  to  be  equalled  in  the  history  of  any  other 
nation. 

The  early  and  total  dispersion  of  the  ten  tribes,  without 
any  return  hitherto  (though  it  is  expected,  according  to 
ancient  prophecy,  in  the  last  ages  of  the  world)  ought  to 
have  been  considered  bv  them  as  an  awful  warning  of  what 
the  remaining  part  of  that  people  might  expect  to  be  their 
own  fate,  if  they  proved  disobedient.  And  from  the  his- 
tory of  the  whole  twelve  tribes,  one  of  the  noblest  and 
most  important  morals  may  be  drawn,  viz.  That  a  nation, 
may  expectto  prosper,  or  sink,  according  as  it  is  favoured 
by  Divine  providence,  or  $he  contrary  ;  and  that  therefore, 
virtue  is  the  only  sure  foundation  of  national  happiness. 


438  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

But  after  all  their  irregularities  and  degeneracies  from 
their  Gud,  and  his  obedience  and  worship,  they  are  all, 
(the  posterity  of  the  ten  tribes,  as  well  as  the  two)  accord- 
ing to  ancient  prophecy,  to  be  finally  replaced  in  their 
own  country,  in  greater  happiness  and  glory  than  ever. 
All  which  peculiar  honours,  important  dispensations,  and 
singular  interpositions  for  this  people,  the  posterity  of 
Abraham,  are  intended  as  a  standing  proof,  during  a  period 
of  near  four  thousand  years  already,  and  how  much  longer 
God  knows,  of  what  value  in  the  sight  of  God,  the  sin 
gular  piety  of  that  venerable  patriarch  was,  for  whom  it 
seems  as  if  he  could  not  (so  to  speak)  do  favours  enough 
even  to  the  -latest  posterity  of  him  who  had  greatly  stood 
up  alone  for  the  worship  of  the  true  God  against  a  whole 
world  sunk  in  idolatry. 

Prophecy  makes  a  very  considerable  part  of  revelation. 
In  the  predictions  of  scripture,  there  is  found  some  account 
of  the  future  fate  of  many  of  the  empires  and  cities  which 
have  made  the"  greatest  figure  in  the  world.  From  whence 
we  learn,  that  the  author  of  prophecy  is  the  God  of  the 
Gentiles  as  well  as  of  the  Jews.  That  neither  his  presence, 
nor  his  power,  is  limited  to  the  affairs  of  any  one  nation 
whatever. 

No  branch  of  scripture  prophecy  is  so  interesting  to  us 
as  those  which  hold  forth  the  coming  of  the  Messiah  and 
his  kingdom,  which  shine  more  and  more  clearly  from 
the  first  obscure  one  given  immediately  after  the  fall, 
u  That  the  Seed  of  the  woman  should  bruise  the  Serpent's 
head;"  down  through  a  period  of  four  thousand  years, 
to  those  plain  ones  given  by  Zacharias,  the  priest,  Swieon, 
Anna,  and  John  the  baptist,  his  immediate  fore-runner ; 
and  thus  the  important  designs  of  God,  with  regard  to 
mankind,  opened  by  degrees,  every  great  prophecy  car- 
rying on  the  view  to  the  last  glorious  ages  ;  till  at  length 
our  saviour  himself  comes  as  a  light  into  the  world,  and 
carries  his  sublime  informations  and  heavenly  precepts 
immensely  beyond  what  had  been  done  by  all  the  prophets, 
law-givers,  and  philosophers,  opening  a  prospect  into  eter- 
nity, and  bringing  life  and  immortality  to  light.  Of  pro- 
phecy more  hereafter. 

The  history  of  our  Saviour's  birth,  life,  miracles,  doc- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  439 

trine,  predictions,  death,  resurrection,  and  ascension,  makes 
a  very  considerable  part  of  scripture. 

The  christian  scheme  itself  may  be  considered  as  the 
publication  of  an  act  of  grace  to  a  rebellious  world,  and 
of  the  terms  upon  which  God  will  mercifully  receive  man- 
kind into  favour.  The  sublime,  the  interesting,  and  com- 
fortable views  it  exhibits,  are  these : 

God,  the  original  of  all  being,  the  father  of  mankind, 
who  brought  the  species  into  existence  with  a  view  wholly 
to  their  happiness,  willing  to  forgive  his  offending,  guilty 
creatures  upon  any  terms  consistent  with  the  honour  of 
his  government ;  but  at  the  same  time  displeased  with 
vice  and  irregularity,  and  not  to  be  reconciled  to  offend- 
ers, but  upon  proper  conditions.  Or  in  other  words,  the 
christian  religion  represents  almighty  God  in  the  twofold 
character  of  the  wise  and  righteous  governor  of  the  moral 
world,  and  of  the  tender  and  merciful  father  of  his  crea- 
tures. 

The  christian  scheme  represents  the  human  species, 
who  were  originally,  as  all  orders  of  rational  beings,  ob- 
liged to  a  perfect  obedience  to  the  Divine  authority,  and, 
in  consequence  of  that,  insured  of  a  happy  immortality, 
universally  degenerate,  and  become  obnoxious  to  punish- 
ment by  disobedience.  Which  renders  some  expedient 
necessary  for  saving  them  from  destruction,  consistently 
with  the  dignity  of  the  Divine  government. 

The  third  character  concerned  in  the  christian  scheme, 
is  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God,  who  is  in  it  exhibited 
as  leaving  his  celestial  state,  and  assuming  the  human 
nature,  to  give  up  voluntarily  his  life  for  the  sins  of  man- 
kind, in  order  to  their  being  restored  to  a  capacity  of  par- 
don upon  repentance  and  reformation. 

In  the  blameless  life  of  this  glorious  person,  while  on 
earth,  a  perfect  example  is  set  before  mankind,  of  obedi- 
ence to  the  Divine  laws  ;  and  in  his  sufferings,  of  patience 
and  resignation  to  the  will  of  God. 

In  his  doctrines,  the  perfections  of  God  are  more  clearly 
manifested  to  mankind,  than  by  any,  or  all  the  other 
teachers  that  ever  appeared,  the  evil  of  vice,  the  excel- 
lency of  virtue,  and  their  respective  connexions  with  hap- 
piness and  misery,  more  fully  set  forth.  The  dignity  of 
the  human  nature  more  gloriously  manifested  in  the  im- 


440  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

portance  of  the  scheme  for  the  restoration  of  man,  and 
the  high  elevation  to  which  Christianity  teaches  to  aspire. 
The  proper  and  acceptable*  method  of  worshipping  God, 
dec!  .red.  '1  he  certainty  of  obtaining  pardon  upon  repent- 
ance and  reformation.  The  future  resurrection  of  the  body, 
and  the  everlasting  and  increasing  happiness  of  the  whole 
man,  ascertained  beyond  doubt. 

In  his  laws,  the  whole  duty  of  man  is  more  fully  and 
pc  rfectly  declared,  and  with  an  authority  to  which  no  other 
lawgiver  could  pretend  ;  which  authority  he  confirms  by 
unquestionable  miracles  and  predictions  fully  accomplish- 
ed ;  by  conferring  on  his  followers  the  power  of  working 
miracles  ;  and  especially  by  rising  from  the  dead,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  prediction.  The  substance  of  the  precep- 
tive part  of  Christianity  is  contained  in  the  following  para- 
graph. 

On  account  of  the  death  and  intercession  of  the  Messiah, 
that  perfect  and  blameless  obedience,  which  is  naturally 
the  indispensable  duty  of  man,  and  all  rational  creatures, 
the  defect  of  which  made  an  expiation  and  intercession 
necessary,  is  gracioush  dispensed  with;  and  instead  of  it, 
through  repentance  for  all  our  offences,  which  implies  the 
reformation  of  them,  as  far  as  human  frailty  will  admit, 
and  a  candid  reception  and  steady  belief  of  the  Christian 
religion,  arid  sincere  endeavours  to  obey  its  laws,  and  to 
attain  the  perfection  of  its  graces  and  virtues,  accepted, 
and  made  the  condition  of  pardon  and  everlasting  happi- 
ness :  Which  are,  love,  reverence,  gratitude,  and  obedi- 
ence to  God.  Love,  gratitude,  and  obedience  to  Christ; 
through  whom,  as  the  appointed  intercessor,  we  are  by  rev- 
elation taught  to  address  the  Almighty  father  of  all,  and 
whose  death  we  are  to  commemorate  according  to  his  ap- 
pointment. Thankfulness  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Comfor- 
ter and  Inspirer.  Benevolence  to  men.  Temperance  with 
respect  to  their  own  passions  and  appetites.  Humility, 
meekness,  chastity,  purity  of  heart,  integrity  in  thought  and 
word ;  mercy,  charity,  and  the  performance  of  all  the  social 
and  relative  duties  of  life;  forgiving  of  injuries,  loving 
enemies,  prudence  without  cunning  ;  zeal  without  rancour; 
steadiness  without  obstinacy  ;  contempt  of  riches,  honours, 
pleasures,  and  all  worldly  things  ;  courage  to  stand  up  for 
the  truth  in  spite  of  the  applause  or  threatenings  of  m 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  441 

attention  above  all  things  to  the  concerns  of  futurity  :  vi- 
gilance against  temptations  from  within,  and  from  the  al- 
lurements of  the  world,  and  perseverance  to  the  end  in  as- 
piring after  the  inestimable  prize  of  a  glorious  and  happy 
immortality. 

Christianity  proposes  the  noblest  motives  to  obedience 
that  can  be  conceived,  and  the  fittest  for  influencing  such 
an  order  of  beings  as  mankind.  The  most  sordid  and  stu- 
pid is  likely  to  be  alarmed  by  the  threatenings  of  a  punish- 
ment inconceivably  terrible,  and  of  immense  duration. 
The  natural  consequence  of  which  fear  is, its  beingdeterrcd 
from  vice,  and  forced  to  think  of  reforming.  From  whence 
the  next  step  is  into  sobriety,  or  negative  goodness  :  which 
leads  naturally  to  the  practice  of  direct  virtue  ;  and,  as 
practice  produces  habit,  the  issue  to  be  expected  is,  a  habit 
of  virtue  ;  an  attachment  to  goodness  ;  farther  and  farther 
degrees  of  improvement ;  and  in  the  end  such  a  perfection 
in  the  government  of  passion  and  appetite,  in  benevolence 
to  mankind,  and  piety  to  God,  as  will,  upon  the  Christian 
plan,  qualify  for  future  happiness. 

Thus  the  denunciation  of  future  punishment  for  vice, 
which  Christianity  sets  forth,  is  evidently  a  wise  and  proper 
means  for  promoting  virtue  :  especially,  if  we  add  the  en- 
couragement of  certainty  of  pardon  upon  repentance  and 
reformation,  which  important  point  we  owe  wholly  to  rev- 
elation. And  if  we  also  take  in  the  views  of  the  supernat- 
ural assistance  which  Christianity  encourages  well-disposed 
persons  to  expect  in  their  conflict  with  temptation  antj 
vice  ;  and  those  high  honours,  and  that  sublime  happiness, 
which  revealed  religion  sets  before  mankind,  as  the  con- 
sequence of  a  victorious  perseverance  in  virtue.  The  fit- 
ness of  such  motives  for  powerfully  influencing  such  an 
order  of  beings  as  the  human  species,  is  a  proof,  that  the 
religion  which  proposes  them  is  of  Him  who  formed  the 
human  species  ;  who  endowed  mankind  with  reason,  with 
hope,  and  fear,  and  made  the  mind  susceptible  of  habit, 
and  stamped  upon  it  the  idea  of  immortality.  For  none 
but  He,  who  formed  the  mind,  and  perfectly  knew  its 
springs,  could  address  it  in  a  way  so  proper  for  influencing 
it,  and  for  bringing  it,  in  a  consistency  with  its  nature  and 
present  state,  to  the  steady  love  and  practice  of  virtue. 

We  have  likewise  in  scripture  an  account  of  the  cstab 

3K 


442  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

lishment  of  the  christian  religion,  and  the  firm  adherence 
of  its  first  professors  in  spite  of  persecution.  Addresses 
from  the  first  propagators  of  Christianity  to  their  proselytes, 
explaining  more  fully  the  doctrines  of  religion,  solving 
their  difficulties,  encouraging  them  to  constancy,  and  giv- 
ing them  useful  directions  for  the  conduct  of  life.  And 
predictions  of  the  future  state  of  the  church,  its  degeneracy 
into  Popery,  and  the  consummation  of  all  things. 

Here  the  amazing  scheme,  being  completed,  comes  to 
a  period.  The  Divine  dispensations  with  regard  to  man- 
kind, in  their  present  state,  having  been  finished  in  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  christian  religion  in  the  world,  nothing 
more  is  to  be  expected,  but  the  completion  of  the  predic- 
tions yet  unfulfilled,  of  which  the  chief  are,  the  restoration 
of  the  Israelites  and  Jews  to  their  own  country,  with  the 
conversion  of  the  world  in  general  to  the  christian  religion, 
which  makes  way  for  the  last  glorious  ages  ;  for  the  reno- 
vation and  consummation  of  all  things ;  for  the  general 
judgment  of  the  whole  human  race,  according  to  the  char- 
acters they  have  sustained  in  life,  the  condemnation  and 
Utter  destruction  of  such  of  the  species  as  shall  be  found 
to  have  rendered  themselves  unworthy  and  incapable  of  the 
Divine  mercy,  and  the  establishment  of  the  pious  and  vir- 
tuous in  an  everlasting  state  of  glory  and  happiness,  in  or- 
der to  their  improving  and  rising  higher  and  higher  to  all 
eternity. 

Can  any  man,  who  only  runs  through  this  brief  and  im- 
perfect sketch  of  the  whole  body  of  revelation,  bring  him- 
self to  believe  that  such  a  scheme  could  have  been  begun 
with  the  beginning  of  the  world,  carried  on  through  a  suc- 
cession of  four  thousand  years  by  the  instrumentality  of  a 
number  of  different  persons,  who  had  no  opportunity  of 
concerting  measures  together;  exhibiting  to  the  vie\y  pf 
mankind  all  that  is  great,  important,  and  useful  to  be  known 
ami  practised,  all  the  Divine  dispensations  with  respect  to 
a  species  of  rational  moral  agents,  the  scope  and  purpose 
of  the  whole,  being  wise,  good,  worthy  of  God,  and  suitable 
to  the  wants  of  men,  uniform  in  its  purpose  throughout, 
teaching  one  grand  and  useful  leston  from  the  beginning 
to  the  end,  agreeing  with  itself,  with  the  constitution  and 
course  of  nature,  the  strain  of  history,  and  the  natural  rea- 
son of  man,  in  which  there  appears  a  perfect  agreement  be- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  443 

tvvixt  types  and  antitypes,  doctrines  and  precepts,  predic* 
tions  and  completions,  laws  and  sanctions,  pretensions  and 
truth  ;  and  the  whole  leading  directly  to  the  highest  im- 
provement and  perfection  of  Human  Nature ;  can  any  man 
bring  himself  to  believe  such  an  universal,  all-comprehen- 
sive scheme  to  be  really  no  more  than  human  contrivance? 
But  of  this  more  hereafter- 


SECTION  III. 

Considerations  on  some  particulars  in  Revealed  Religion. 

The  reader  may  remember,  that  I  put  off  the  subject  of 
Providence,  though  commonly  reckoned  a  doctrine  of 
Natural  Religion,  till  I  should  be  upon  Revelation,  be- 
cause it  is  from  thence  that  it  receives  its  principal  con- 
firmation and  establishment. 

The  opinion,  that  the  world,  and  all  things  animate  and 
inanimate,  are  by  the  infinite  Author  of  all,  supported  in 
their  existence,  and  conducted  in  all  the  changes  of  state, 
which  they  undergo,  is  as  ancient  as  the  belief  of  the  Di- 
vine existence. 

As  to  the  natural  or  material  world,  it  is  certain,  from 
reason  and  experience,  that  the  inactivity  of  matter  is  in- 
separable from  its  nature.  All  the  laws  of  nature,  as  de- 
duced from  experience,  and  observation,  are  founded  up- 
on this  axiom,  That  matter  does  necessarily  continue  in 
that  state  in  which  it  is  at  present,  whether  of  rest  or  of 
direct  motion,  till  it  be  put  out  of  that  state  by  some  liv- 
ing agent.  To  imagine  matter  capable  of  itself,  of  chang- 
ing its  state  of  rest  into  that  of  motion,  or  of  motion  into 
rest,  would  be  supposing  it  something  else  than  matter ; 
for  it  is  essential  to  the  idea  of  matter,  that  it  resists  all  im- 
pressions made  upon  it.  Unresisting  matter  is  a  self-con- 
tradictory idea,  as  much  as  noisy  silence,  vicious  virtue, 
or  the  like.  There  is  not  one  appearance,  oreifect,  in  the 
natural  world,  that  could  have  been  brought  about  by  un- 
resisting matter.  Upon  the  inertia  of  matter,  the  whole 
cours  of  nature  depends.  To  say,  that  matter,  however 
modified,  is  capable  of  being  made  to  have  any  tendency 
to  change  its  place  or  state,  would  be  ascribing  to  it  a 
power  of  choosing  and  refusing.     For  before  it  can  of  it- 


444  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

self  change  its  state  of  rest  for  motion,  or  of  motion  for 
rest,  it  must  choose  for  itself.     If  a  particle  of  matter  is 
to  move  itself,  which  way  shall  it  move?  If  you  deter- 
mine eastward,  westward,   southward,  or  northward;  the 
question  immediately  arises,  why  should  it  move  eastward 
rather  than  westward,  or  southward  rather  than  northward  ? 
To  ascribe  thought  or  choice,  or  activity  of  any  kind,  t© 
matter,  however  modified,  is  ascribing  to  it  what  contra- 
diets  its  very  nature  and  essence.     For  its  nature  and  es- 
sence is  to  continue  for  ever  inactive.     So  that,  wherever 
we  see  a  portion  of  matter  in  motion,  it  is  certain,  that  it 
is  moved  by  the  action  of  some  living  agent.     Farther,  if 
we  found  in  the  natural  world  no  motions  carried  on,  but 
what  proceeded  in  direct  lines,   it  might  be  conceivable, 
that  the  matter  of  the  universe  had  received  such  an  im- 
pulse at  the  beginning,   as  had  continued  its  motions  till 
now.     For,  matter,  put  once  in  motion,  must,  if  left  to  it- 
self, move  on  in  a  direct  course  to  eternity.     But  whoever 
has  considered  the  natural  world,  will  reflect,  that  there 
are  a  great  many  different  motions  continually  going  on  in 
the  universe,  some  of  which  are  directly  contrary  to  others. 
That  the  forces,  with  which  bodies  tend  to  one  another, 
and  with  which  some  solid  substances  cohere,  are  im- 
mensely great,  while  the  ease,  with  which  the    lightest 
bodies  pass  through  the  space,  in  which  those  forces  pre- 
vail, makes  it  inconceivable,  that  any  thing  material  is  the 
cause  of  those  strong  tendencies.     This  therefore  obliges 
us  to  have  recourse  to  something  immaterial,  as  the  cause 
of  the  endlessly  various,  complicated,  and  contrary  ten- 
dencies, which  we  see  prevail  in  nature.     In  the  solar  sys- 
tem, supposing,  as  some  have  fancied,  a  set  of  subtle  par- 
ticles continually  flowing  inward,  toward  the  sun,  to  pro- 
duce the  effect  of  gravitation,  there  must  be  another  influx 
of  the  same  sort  of  particles  from  all  parts  toward  each  of 
the  planets,  for  they  too  are  endowed  (to  use  the  common 
expression)  with  the  power  of  attracting  toward  themselves 
whatever  is  within  the  sphere  of  their  attraction.     It  is  ev- 
ident, that  the  course  of  the  particles,  which  cause  gravita- 
tion toward  the  sun,  must  be  in  part  directly  contrary  to 
that  which  causes  the  gravitation  of  the  satellites  of  a  plan- 
et toward  it.     And  the  streams  of  particles  flowing  inward 
toward  each  of  the  satellites  of  a  planet,  must  be"  in  part 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  445 

directly  contrary  to  the  course  of  those- which  flow  toward 
the  planet  itself.  The  planet  also  continually  changing 
place,  no  possible  influx  of  particles  towards  it  can  produce 
the  effect  required,  because,  that  direction  of  such  influx, 
Avhich  would  be  favourable  in  one  situation,  must  of  course 
be  quite  contrary  in  another.  And  upon  the  planet  itself, 
if  there  are  any  animals  or  vegetables,  any  material  substan- 
ces, in  which  there  is  either  secretion,  motion  of  fluids,  cor- 
ruption, decay,  or  renovation,  the  contrariety  of  the  course 
of  the  particles,  by  which  such  internal  motions  are  carried 
on,  must  be  such  as  to  produce  absolute  confusion  ;  for  we 
must  at  last  conceive  throughout  all  created  space,  an  infi- 
nite number  of  streams  of  small  particles  flowing  in  all  di- 
rections, which  could,  by  the  very  supposition,  produce 
no  regular  motion  in  the  material  svstem.  Besides,  we 
know,  that  the  forces  of  attraction  and  gravitation  are  not  as 
the  surfaces  of  bodies  attracting  one  another;  but  as  the 
number  of  particles  contained  in  them,  which  requires  a 
power  that  shall  freely  pervade  the  most  solid  bodies,  not 
merely  effect  their  surfaces.  We  likewise  know,  that  elas- 
tic matter  tends  every  way,  or  endeavours  to  diffuse  itself 
wider  and  wider,  and  to  repel  its  own  particles,  and  every 
surrounding  body.  This  power,  or  tendency  (to  use  the 
common  improper  term)  is  by  no  means  consistent  with 
any  theory  of  streams  of  particles  flowing  any  one  way  ; 
but  is  easily  explicable  by  that  of  an  Infinite  Mind  within 
all  matter. 

There  is,  in  short,  no  solution  of  the  various  and  oppo- 
site tendencies  of  the  parts  of  the  material  system,  that  is 
not  palpably  absurd,  besides  having  recourse  to  an  Infi- 
nite mind,  in  which  the  visible  world  has  its  being,  and  by 
which  it  not  only  was  at  first  put  into  motion,  like  a  clock 
woundup  and  seta-going;  but  is  continually,  from  mo- 
ment to  moment,  actuated  according  to  certain  fixed  rules 
or  methods,  which  are  what  we  call  the  Laws  of  Nature. 

If  therefore  we  find  it  necessarv,  on  account  of  the  ne- 
cessary  inactivity  of  matter,  which  has  nothing  in  its  na- 
ture equal  to  the  complicated  motions,  which  we  see  in 
the  system  of  the  world,  to  conclude,  that  the  Infinite  au- 
thor of  nature  does  continually,  either  mediately  or  imme- 
diately, exert  his  indefatigable  power  in  conducting  and 
actuating  the  inanimate  machine  ;  we  cannot  suppose  less, 


446  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

than  that  he  bestows  as  much  of  his  attention  and  super, 
imendency  upon  the  moral  system,  as  upon  the  natural; 
for  the  hitter,  having  been  produced  for  the  sake  of  the 
former,  shows  the  former  to  be  of  superior  value. 

The  superintendency  of  a  world  infinite  in  extent,  and 
containing  an  infinite  number  of  particulars,  would  evi- 
dently be  no  more  than  what  Infinite  power  and  Omni- 
presence would  be  fully  equal  to.  So  that  the  thought 
of  any  shadow  of  difficulty  in  governing  the  universe, 
ought  never  to  enter  into  our  minds. 

To  suppose  great  part  of  the  scheme  of  Providence 
carried  on  by  the  ministration  of  angels,  or  other  created 
beings,  comes  to  the  same,  as  ascribing  all  to  the  imme- 
diate agency  of  the  Supreme.  For  every  created  being 
in  the  universe,  the  highest  serapli,  as  well  as  the  mean- 
est reptile,  derives  all  his  powers  from  the  Supreme,  and 
depends  from  moment  to  moment,  upon  the  Universal 
Author  of  existence,  for  his  being,  and  the  exertion  of 
all  his  powers. 

The  promiscuous  distribution  of  happiness  and  misery 
in  this  life,  or  what  we  commonly  call  good  or  bad  for- 
tune, is  no  sort  of  objection  to  the  doctrine  of  a  Provi- 
dence. The  continual  and  certain  consequences  of  virtue 
and  vice  respectively,  the  immediate  interposition  of  hea- 
ven, on  every  occasion,  would  have  been  wholly  incon- 
sistent with  a  state  of  discipline.  And  yet  there  is  a  gen- 
eral scheme  as  visibly  carried  on  in  the  moral  world,  as 
in  the  natural ;  though  many  particulars  in  both  lie  out 
of  the  reach  of  our  weak  faculties. 

To  say,  that  it  is  disparaging  the  Divine  wisdom  to  al- 
lege the  necessity  or  propriety  of  a  continual  exertion  of 
power  in  the  natural  world,  which  ought  rather  to  be  sup- 
posed to  have  been  so  constituted  at  first  as  to  proceed  of 
it  elf,  without  the  continued  application  of  the  Almighty- 
hand  ;'  this  objection  duly  considered,  has  no  manner  of 
weight.  For,  if  the  material  world  was  to  exist  at  all,  it 
was  necessary  it  should  be  what  by  the  very  nature  of 
matter  it  must  be  ;  that  is,  inanimate  and  inactive.  And 
if  so,  it  must  be  actuated,  or  be  motionless,  or  at  least, 
it  must  have  no  complex  motions. — The  truth  is,  a  self- 
moving  complicated  material  machine,  is  a  contradiction 
in  terms  ;  and  therefore  what  could  not  possibly  exist. 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  447 

If  we  consider  that  the  Infinite  mind  inhabits  all  crea- 
ted and  uncreated  space,  we  shall  think  it  as  proper  in  Him 
to  actuate  continually  the  immense  machine  of  the  Uni- 
verse ;  to  every  atom  of  which  he  is  immediately  present, 
as  for  a  human  mind  to  actuate  the  body  it  inhabits.  And 
no  one  in  his  senses  ever  thought  it  would  have  been  bet- 
ter, that  the  body  should  have  been  made  to  perform  its 
functions  like  a  clock  once  wound  up,  than  that  it  should 
be  continually,  from  moment  to  moment,  at  the  command 
of  the  mind,  to  actuate  it  at  pleasure. 

In  the  same  manner,  with  respect  to  the  moral  world, 
it  is  not  lessening  the  wisdom  or  power  of  the  universal 
moral  Governor,  to  suppose  interpositions  necessary. 
There  are  various  considerations  which  show  the  ooYitrary. 

In  general,  that  of  the  present  frail  and  pitiable  state 
of  Human  Nature;  the  circumstance  of  an  evil  being's 
having  got  an  ascendency  over  mankind  ;  of  the  first  in- 
troduction of  viee  being  through  temptation,  which  may 
be  our  peculiar  misfortune;  of  our  being  perhaps  one  of 
the  lowest  orders  of  moral  agents  ;  these  circumstances 
may  render  it  proper,  that  we  at  least  should  have  some 
extraordinary  assistance  given  us,  that  there  should  be 
some  peculiar  interpositions  in  our  favour.  Now,  to  sup- 
pose a  positive  providential  economy  and  superintendencv 
carried  on,  is  supposing  the  easiest  possible  scheme  for 
gaining  such  ends  as  might  be  wanted  for  the  advantage  of 
our  species. 

Communities  seem  to  require  a  providence,  to  reward 
or  punish  their  behaviour  in  their  rational  and  public  cha- 
racter, as  on  occasion  of  the  observance  or  breach  of  laws 
of  nations,  or  alliances.  The  rewards  and  punishments 
of  the  future  state  will  be  personal.  Good  men,  being  guilty 
of  faults,  ought  to  suffer  in  this  world,  though  they  come 
to  final  happiness  in  the  next ;  that  evil  may  not  wholly 
escape  :  which  seems  to  infer  the  propriety  of  a  provi- 
dence, The  wonderftil  discovery  of  the  perpetrators  of 
horrid  crimes,  particularly  murder,  is  a  strong  presump- 
tion of  the  truth  of  this  doctrine. 

But  revelation  puts  this  matter  wholly  out  of  doubt;  as 
it  every  where  goes  upon  the  supposition  of  a  continual 
Divine  superintendency  over  the  natural  and  moral  world. 

For  it  represents  this  world  as  God's  world,  created, 


448  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

preserved,  continually  conducted,  and  hereafter  to  be 
judged  by  him.  It  exhibits  a  scheme  of  Divine  conduct 
of  the  affairs  of  the  world  in  general,  and  of  one  nation 
in  particular,*  which  is  altogether  inconsistent,  without 
taking  in  the  idea  of  a  Providence.  Prophccv,  and  mir^ 
acles,  of  which  elsewhere,  necessarily  suppose  Divine 
interposition.  And  holy  scripture  in  a  variety  of  places 
expressly  affirms  the  doctrine  of  Providence.  "  For  it  in- 
forms us, 

"  That  God  preserveth,  and  upholdeth  all  things  by  the 
word  of  his  power;  and  that  they   continue  to 'this  day 
according  to  his  ordinance.     That  he  has  appointed  seed 
time  and  harvest,  cold  and  heat,  summer  and  winter  ;  and 
that  they  shall  not  cease,  while  the  earth  remaineth.     That 
with  him  is  the  foundation  of  life.     That  he  preserves  man 
and  beast,  and  gives  food  to  all  flesh.     That  in  his  hand 
is  the  soul  of  every  living  thing,  and  the  breath  of  every 
creature.     That  in  him  we  Jive,  and  move,  and  have  our 
being,  who  holds  our  souls  in  life,  and  will  be  our  guide  even 
to  death.     That  he  preserves  us,  while  we  sleep,  and  when 
we  wake  ;    when  we  go  out,  and  when  we  come  in,  even 
from  the  womb,  making  us  to  dwell  in  safety.     That  he  is 
the  universal  King,  and  Judge  of  all,  and  dees  according  to 
his  will  in  the  armies  of  heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants 
of  the  earth.     That  angels,  archangels,  principalities  and 
powers,  thrones  and  dominions,  are  subject  to  him,  and 
that  they  rejoice  to  do  his  commandments,  hearkening  to 
his  word.     That  he   gives  fruitful  seasons  on  earth,  and 
crowns  the  year  with  his  goodness ;  and  again,  at  his  pleas- 
ure   shuts  up  heaven,  that  there  be  no  rain,  and  that  the 
land  yield  not  her  increase  ;  turning  a  fruitful  land  into  bar- 
renness, for  the   wickedness  of  them  that  dwell  therein. 
That  the  Most  High  rules  in    the  kingdom  of  men,  and 
gives  to  whomsoever  he  wiil.     That  he  puts  down  one, 
ai.d  sets  another  up.      That  by  him  kings  reign,  and  prin- 
ces bear  rule.     That  unless  he  keep  the  city,  the  wateh- 
nxn  watch  in  vain.     That  he  encreascs  the  nations;  and 
again  destroys  them  ;   that  he  enlarges  and  straitens  them 
at  his  pleasure.     That  whenever  he  speaks  concerning  a 
nation,  to  build  and  to  plant,  or  to  pluck  up  and  destroy 
it,  his  counsel  shall  stand,  and  he  will  do  all  his  pleasure-. 

Sec  pn^e  432. 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  449 

That  from  him  comes  every  good  and  perfect  gift ;  and  at 
the  same  time,  there  is  no  (penal)  evil  in  the  world,  which 
he  has  not  sent.  That  he  kills,  and  makes  alive;  that  he 
wounds,  and  heals  ;  brings  down  to  the  grave,  and  bring9 
up  again,  at  pleasure.  That  the  preparations  of  the  heart 
and  the  answer  of  the  tongue,  are  from  God,  who  gives 
wisdom  to  the  wise,  and  knowledge  to  those  who  know 
understanding ;  and  when  it  seems  good  to  him,  hides  the 
thing  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  which  he  reveals  to  babes. 
That  he  makes  poor,  and  makes  rich ;  brings  low  and  lifts 
up.  That  riches  and  honours  come  from  him.  That 
the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong ; 
nor  bread  to  the  wise,  nor  favour  to  men  of  skill;  but  it 
is  the  hand  of  God,  that  has  wrought  all  these  things.  That 
though  the  horse  be  prepared  against  the  day  of  battle, 
safety  is  from  God.  That  he  makes  wars  to  cease,  and 
sends  the  sword  among  the  nations,  at  his  pleasure.  That 
the  wrath  of  man  shall  be  made  to  work  out  his  praise, 
and  the  remainder  shall  be  restrained.  That  when  the  lot 
is  cast,  the  disposing  of  it  is  of  God.  That  he  works  all 
things  according  to  the  counsel  of  his  own  will,  and  is 
accountable  to  no  one." 

The  truth  of  the  doctrine  of  Providence  is. therefore 
established  upon  reason  and  revelation. 

To  proceed  to  another  subject :  The  account  we  have 
in  scripture  of  our  species  in  general  suffering  by  the  first 
offence  of  our  grand  parents,  may  seem  at  first  view  some- 
what difficult  to  understand  ;  as  if  it  were  a  hardship  that 
we  should  be  in  any  respect  loosers  by  what  we  are  innocent 
of.  That  we  should  be  in  danger  of  being  condemned  to 
any  future  or  final  punishment  upon  any  account,  but  our 
own  personal  voluntary  guilt,  is  contrary  to  the  whole  tenor 
of  scripture,  and  would  indeed  render  revelation,  as  well  as 
reason,  wholly  useless  fo."  directing  us  to  the  means  of 
working  out  our  own  salvation,  ana  avoiding  destruction. 
That  perfect  Justice  should  determine  cne  person  to  final 
destruction  for  what  was  done  by  another,  many  ages 
before  his  birth,  at  once  overturns  all  our  notions  of  right 
and  wrong.  And  if  we  cannot  Judge  of  right  and  wrong, 
we  cannot  be  expected,  nor  should  ever  have  been  com- 
manded, to  forsake  the  error  of  our  ways,  and  do  that  what 
is  lawful  and  right.     So  that  this  opinion  grossly  misrep- 

3  L 


450  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

resents  the  character  of  the  Judge  of  the  world,  and  sub- 
verts religion,  natural  and  revealed,  from  the  foundation. 
But  that  the  natural,  as  well  as  judicial  effects  of  the  first 
violation  of  Divine  authority,  followed  by  innumerable 
succeeding  transgression,  might  be  the  sinking  of  the  spe- 
cies some  degrees  lower ;  the  subjecting  them,  and  the 
world  they  inhabit,  to  visible  marks  of  Divine  displeas- 
ure ;  and  their  being,  upon  the  whole,  of  course,  in  a 
situation  less  promising  for  universal  virtue  and  happi- 
ness ;  may  be  reasonable  enough  to  suppose,  and  may  be 
found  to  have  been  intended  for  valuable  moral  purposes. 
For,  as  the  case  of  our  species  is,  that  they  have  contin- 
ued disobedient  ever  since  the  first  offence,  it  is  but  rea- 
sonable, that  they  be  exposed  to  sufferings  and  afflictions. 
And  as  the  natural  tendency  of  affliction  is  reformation, 
and  every  instance  of  our  world's  being  in  a  ruined  state, 
and  under  a  curse,  ought  to  furnish  a  memorial  of  the  great 
evil  of  vice  ;  on  these  considerations,  the  present  state  of 
the  world  is  evidently  an  effect  of  the  Divine  goodness,  as 
well  as  severity.  If  man  is  sunk  below  the  station,  in 
which  the  species  were  first  placed,  he  has  no  room  for 
complaint :  for  he  might  have  been  placed  there  at  his  cre- 
ation. If  our  condition  seems  less  promising  for  virtue 
and  happiness,  than  that  in  which  the  first  of  the  species 
were  at  their  creation  placed ;  it  is  on  the  other  hand  to  be 
remembered,  that  revelation  shows,  very  great  things  have 
been  done  for  us,  more  than  sufficient  to  make  up  for  what 
seems  disadvantages  we  may  labour  under.  And  thus 
all  ground  of  complaint  is  effectually  precluded. 

The  scripture  account  of  the  destruction  of  mankind 
by  a  general  deluge,  is  a  subject  which  deserves  to  be- 
briefly  considered. 

Though  it  is  not  to  be  positively  affirmed,  that  this,  or 
the  other,  was  the  true  cause  of  a  particular  supernatural 
phenomenon,  or  the  method  in  which  it  was  brought  about; 
we  may  yet  conclude  in  general,  that  it  is  more  suitable 
to  the  ways  of  God,  to  bring  about  all  effects,  as  well 
natural,  as  those  we  call  supernatural,  or  miraculous,  by 
certain  adequate  means,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  consist- 
entlv  with  the  stated  laws  and  course  of  nature.  That  a 
mighty  wind  should,  according  to  the  Scripture  account, 
separate  the  Jicd  Sea  for  the  passage  of  the  people  of  It- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  45 1 

racl,  was  as  proper  a  miracle  wrought  in  their  favour,  as 
if  the  immediate  word  or  will  of  God  had  done  it.     And 
if  the  general  deluge  was  brought  on  by  some  pre-estab- 
lished natural  means,  it  was  no  less  a  Divine  judgment 
upon  a  race  of  creatures,  whose  wickedness  was  forseen, 
than  if  it  had  been  caused  by  the  immediate  exertion  of 
Omnipotence.     What  constitutes  a  particular  wonderful 
event,  a  proper  miracle,  in  a  theological  sense,  is,  its  be- 
ing expressly  appealed  to  by  some  person,  as  a  confirma- 
tion of  a  new  pretended  doctrine  or  mission  from  heaven. 
The  general  deluge  was  accordingly  foretold,  and  the  peo- 
ple of  those  ancient  times  forewarned  of  it  by  Noah,  but 
in  vain.  Should  a  person,  pretending  to  a  Divine  mission, 
foretel  an  earthquake  some  months  or  years  before,  and 
an  earthquake  should  happen  exactly  at  the  threatened 
time,  all  reasonable  men  would  yield  that  measure  of  as- 
sent to  his  assertions  and  pretensions,  which  might  be 
thought  justly  due  to  the  authority  of  one  single  miracle, 
taken  in  conjunction  with  the  other  circumstances  of  his 
own  character,  and  that  of  his  doctrine.  Yet  earthquakes 
are  effects  of  natural  causes.     And  if  any  person  thinks 
it  disparages  the  miracle  of  the  flood  to  say,  that  it  was 
brought  about  by  the  instrumentality  of  an  intervening 
cause,  the  objection  is  the  same,  taking  it  for  an  imme- 
diate effect  of  Divine  Power.     For  the  end  being  the  de- 
struction of  a  race  of  degenerate  mortals,  it  may  as  well 
be  said,  Why  were  not  all  struck  dead  in  a  moment  by  a 
word  from  the  mouth  of  God,  without  the  instrumental- 
ity of  the  suffocating  element  of  water  ?  as,  Why  was  the 
flood  brought  on  by  the  means  of  any  intervening  cause? 
No  one  doubts,  whether  the  old  world  was  destroyed  by 
God,  as  an  exemplary  punishment  for  their  wickedness. 
Why  should  any  one  think  it  less  a  Divine  judgment, 
for  its  being  brought  about  in  a  consistency  with  the  reg- 
ular and  uniform  procedure  of  nature,  than  if  it  had  been 
an  effect  quite  detached  from,  and  unconnected  with  the 
universal  scheme  ;  which  is  not  so  beautiful,  so  masterly, 
nor  so  worthy  of  an  universal  Governor. 

Since  the  decision  of  the  question  of  the  cause  of  the 
tides,  which  puzzled  all  antiquity,  and  has  been  shown 
by  our  incomparable  philosopher  to  be  the  effect  of  the 
mutual  gravitation  of  the  earth  and  moon ;  it  is  very 


452  Or  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

easily  conceivable  that  a  nearer  approach  of  the  mooa 
toward  our  earth,  by  a  third  part  of  her  whole  distance, 
would  cause  an  enormously  high  tide.  If  therefore 
we  suppose  the  moon,  or  any  other  celestial  body,  to  ap- 
proach very  near  to  the  earth,  the  effect  must  be  such  a 
tide,  as  would  rise  higher  than  the  highest  lands,  and, 
rolling  round  the  globe,  would  wash  down  all  terrestrial 
creatures  into  the  deep  where  they  must  perish.  As  we 
know  that  comets,  from  time  to  time,  come  from  all  parts 
of  the  heavens,  and  enter  into  the  planetary  regions ;  it  is 
no  unnatural  supposition,  to  imagine  that  a  comet,  pass- 
ing near  the  earth  at  the  time  of  the  deluge,  might  have 
been  the  appointed  instrument  of  the  Divine  vengeance, 
by  producing,  by  means  of  attraction,  a  disruption  of  the 
outward  shell  of  this  earth,  under  which  it  is  probable  a 
great  collection  of  waters  was  lodged  ;  which  being  by 
attraction  raised  into  an  excessive  tide,  must  occasion  the 
immersion  and  destruction  of  all  land  animals.  And  which 
might  in  great  part  be  afterwards  absorbed  into  vast  empty 
caverns  in  the  earth,  which  might  by  the  same  means  be 
opened  for  its  reception,  and  thus  the  present  dry  land 
left.  The  scripture  account,  of  the  "  breaking  up  of  the 
fountains  of  the  great  deep,"  seems  to  countenance  this 
notion  ;  which  whoever  would  examine  thoroughly,,  may 
read  JPhistorCs  Theory  of  the  Earth.  That  it  is  made 
very  probable  in  that  work,  that  a  comet  did  pass  near  the 
annual  path  of  the  earth,  about  the  time  of  the  general 
deluge,  is  acknowledged  by  the  most  judicious  astrono- 
mers. That,  upon  every  theory,  the  account  of  the  flood 
is  attended  with  difficulties,  must  likewise  be  confessed. 
But  1  think  it  a  satisfaction,  that  upon  the  supposition  of 
its  being  brought  about  by  a  comet,  the  possibility  of  it 
is  fairly  made  out,  and  even  a  sort  of  analogy  to  the  com- 
mon course  of  nature,  in  the  tides,  which  at  times  rise 
to  such  heights  as  to  produce  partial  deluges. 

However  the  flood  was  brought  about,  there  are  too 
many  visible  and  unquestionable  marks  of  a  general  dis- 
ruption of  the  outside  of  this  our  planet,  in  the  hideous 
mountains,  mishapen  rocks,  hollow  vales,  and  other  ruin- 
ous appearances,  with  quantities  of  sea-shells,  bones  of 
animals,  and  large  trees,  found  at  a  great  depth  in  the 
earth ;  there  are,  I  say,  too  many  marks  of  a  general  con- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  453 

cussion  and  ruin  over  the  whole  face  of  the  earth  to  leave 
any  room  to  doubt  that  it  has  undergone  some  very  great 
and  universal  change  ;  which  we  have  all  the  reason  in 
the  world  to  conclude,  was  no  other  than  that  of  the  gen- 
eral deluge,  which,  as  it  is  described  in  scripture,  seems 
fit  to  have  produced  exactly  the  effects  we  observe. 

It  is  true,  that  telescopes  discover,  on  the  face  of  the 
moon,  and  the  planet  Venus,  irregularities  and  roughnes- 
ses, which  make  an  appearance  somewhat  like  to  those 
which  we  may  suppose  might  be  observed  from  the  moon 
upon  the  face  of  our  earth.  But  we  cannot  be  certain, 
that  those  inequalities  have  not  been  part  of  the  original 
make  of  those  bodies;  unless  we  could  examine  them, 
as  we  can  those  of  our  own  planet.  So  that  what  we  ob- 
serve of  this  sort  upon  those  bodies,  does  in  no  degree  affect 
what  has  been  said  with  respect  to  the  probability  that  a 
general  deluge  was  the  cause  of  the  visibly  ruinous  state 
of  our  earth;  for  we  cannot  be  sure,  that  the  inequalities 
on  the  face  of  the  Moon  and  Venus  are  of  the  same  ruin- 
ous kind  with  those  of  our  world.  The  Moon,  especially 
differs  from  our  planet  in  two  essential  particulars.  For 
it  is  certain  beyond  all  doubt,  that  she  has  neither  sea,  at 
least  on  the  face  which  is  always  towards  us,  nor  atmos- 
phere of  air.  So  that  we  cannot  reason  on  any  minute 
circumstances  from  one  to  the  other  ;  but  may  judge  of 
what  we  find  in  our  own  world,  the  state  of  which  seems 
perfectly  to  answer  to  what  might  have  been  expected  to 
be  produced  by  such  a  deluge  as  Moses  describes. 

One  particular,  with  regard  to  the  flood,  is  too  remark- 
able to  be  omitted.  We  have  in  the  book  of  Genesis  an 
exact  account  of  the  measures  of  the  ark  in  cubits.  In 
the  time  of  Moses,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  that  the  world 
was  so  well  known,  or  natural  history  carried  such  a  length, 
that  the  variety  of  different  species  of  terrestrial  animals 
should  be  guessed  at  to  any  nearness.  So  that  it  was  to 
be  expected,  the  measures  of  the  ark  should  be  taken 
either  too  small  or  too  large,  if  the  calculation  of  the  room 
necessary  for  the  lodging  seven  of  every  clean  species,  and 
two  of  ever)-  one  of  the  others,  had  been  taken  according 
to  mere  human  knowledge,  or  conjecture.  Instead  of 
which,  it  is  found  by  calculations  made  in  our  times,  when 
it  is,  by  means  of  our  extensive  commerce  over  the  world, 


454  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

known  how  many  different  speciesof  terrestrial  animals  there 
are  in  all  different  climes  and  countries;  that  the  measures 
we  have  of  the  ark  would  have  afforded  just  sufficient 
room  lor  all  the  creatures  to  be  stowed  in  it,  and  one  year's 
provision.  No  human  sagacity  could,  in  those  early  times, 
in  which  there  was  so  little  intercourse  among  theinhabi- 
tants  of  different  countries,  have  guessed  at  the  true 
number  of  different  species  of  land  animals  in  all  the  vari- 
ous climates  of  the  world,  every  one  of  which  almost  has 
its  peculiar  set.  It  is  therefore  evident,  that  the  size  and 
capacity  of  the  ark  was  ordered  by  Divine  appointment. 
For  a  human  architect  would  undoubtedly  have  given  its 
measures  too  large  or  too  small. 

There  being  somewhat  seemingly  difficult  in  the  scrip- 
tureacGount  of  those  degenerate  beings,  the  fallen  angels,  it 
may  be  proper  to  throw  together  a  lew  thoughts  on  that  head. 
Whether  the  angelic  species  were,  at  the  time  of  their 
fail,  in  a  first,  stage  of  trial,  such  as  that  in  which  we  are  at 
present,  or  whether  they  had  gone  through  their  first  state 
of  discipline,  and  deviated  afterwards,  as  it  seems  incon- 
sistent with  the  nature  of  finite  moral  agents  to  suppose 
them  in  any  state  out  of  ail  danger,  or  possibility  of  devia- 
tion ;  whatever  particular  state,  I  say,  they  were  at  that  time 
in  the  possibility  of  their  degenerating  into  disobedience 
may  be  accounted  for  in  a  way  comprehensible  by  us ; 
though  we  cannot  be  sure,  that  we  have  the  true  and  full 
account  of  that  whole  matter.  The  most  probable  ac- 
count of  the  transgression  and  degeneracy  of  those  once 
illustrious  beings,  may  be,  That  they  disallowed  of  the 
just  pretentions  of  the  Messiah  to  be  the  general  Governor 
of  their  whole  order;  as  the  perverse  Jens  afterwards 
rejected  him,  when  he  came  in  the  flesh.  To  suppose  that 
the  angels,  now  fallen,  were  capable  of  resolutely  and  de- 
liberately opposing  themselves  to  Omnipotence,  or  raising 
rebellion  against  God,  as  God,  is  absurd.  But  it  is  no 
way  inconceivable,  that  they  might  at  first  question  the 
Messiah's  pretentions  to  authority  over  them;  which  might, 
for  any  thing  we  know,  be  disputable,  as  his  mission  ap- 
peared to  some  even  of  the  sincere,  thought  not  sufficiently 
considerate,  Jews.  In  consequence  of  this  we  can  easily 
enough  conceive  the  possibility  of  their  being  misled,  by 
pride,  by  example,  and  persuasion  of  Satan,  the  leader  of 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  455 

the  adverse  party,  who  probably  himself  had  aspired  to  a 
superiority  over  his  fellow  beings,  and  eould  not  brook  a 
rival.  As  to  the  difficulty  of  supposing  a  set  of  beings  of 
such  superior  wisdom  as  we  commonly  suppose  they 
possessed,  capable  of  error;  scripture  itself  expressly  af- 
firms, that  the  angels  are  chargeable  with  folly.  Besides, 
we  pronounce  rashly,  when  we  pretend  to  assert,  that  the 
angels  were  at  the  time  of  their  fall  greatly  superior  to  the 
most  knowing  of  our  species.  We  find  indeed  those  who 
kept  their  integrity,  spoke  of  in  scripture  as  raised  to  very 
high  degrees  of  elevation.  But  nothing  can  from  thence 
be  argued  with  respect  to  those  who  fell  many  ages  before, 
when  perhaps  they  might  not  be  risen  to  any  such  degree 
of  perfection  as  the  good  part  of  that  species  now  enjoy, 
which  my  be  the  reward  of  their  virtue  and  fidelity.  Be- 
sides, supposing  those  beings  to  have  fallen  from  a  state  of 
happiness  to  which  they  were  raised  in  consequence  of 
their  having  with  success  passed  through  one  state  of  trial 
or  discipline,  we  know  not  whether  one  stage  of  discipline 
was  all  that  was  allotted  them.  We  know  not  but  they 
were  to  pass  through  two,  or  more,  as  one  properly  speak- 
ing seems  appointed  for  us,  though,  as  observed  before, 
no  state  of  freedom  can  be  wholly  secure  from  all  possi- 
bility of  deviation,  but  only  more  and  more  so,  according 
to  the  increasing  experience,  longer  habitude,  and  greater 
wisdom  of  moral  agents.  We  know  not,  but  the  angelic 
species  were  raised  to  the  happiness,  from  which  they  fell, 
in  consequence  of  their  going  through  a  more  advantageous 
and  easy  first  stage  of  probation,  than  what  is  ftppointed 
us ;  and  that,  to  balance  that  advantage,  the  happiness  they 
were  raised  to  was  more  precarious  than  that  which  is 
destined  for  those  of  our  species,  who  shall  acquit  them- 
selves with  honour  of  a  more  difficult  one.  This  seems 
no  more  than  equitable,  and  natural,  that  the  consequence 
of  an  easier  state  of  trial  passed  through  with  success 
should  be  a  lower  degree,  and  more  precarious  kind,  of 
happiness;  and  of  a  more  difficult  one,  a  higher  and  more 
certain  kind  of  happiness.  And  besides,  it  is  very  proba- 
bly the  nature  of  all  moral  agents  to  value  most,  and  be 
most  afraid  of  losing,  what  has  cost  them  the  greatest 
pains  to  attain,  and  what  only  a  few  have  attained.  How- 
ever it  be,  there  is  plainly  no  absurdity  in  the  scripture 


456  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION-. 

account  of  the  fall  of  a  certain  number  of  beings,  of  a  rank 
prior  in  existence,  ;nd  superior  in  dignity  to  ours;  nor  of 
their  being  driven,  by  a  total  despair  of  recovery  to  the 
Divine  favour,  to  a  confirmed  habit  of  perseverance  in  vice, 
and  opposition  to  all  good :  which,  increasing,  must  in- 
crease their  punishment,  and  multiply  the>r  damnation. 
That  those  desperate  beings,  who  know  themselves  to  be 
sealed  to  destruction,  should,  as  far  as  permitted,  exercise 
an  implacable  envy  and  hatred  against  our  species,  of  whom 
they  foresee  the  same  part  will  rise  to  that  happiness,  from 
which  they  are  irrecoverably  fallen,  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at.  Nero,  a  Duke  (TAlva,  a  bloody  father  inquisitor*; 
are  not  these  daemons"?  If  we  have  such  diabolical  beings 
in  our  own  species,  who  have  had  so  short  a  time  to  im- 
prove in  wickedness,  and  are  still  under  a  dispensation  of 
heavenly  grace;  why  should  we  wonder  at  any  accounts 
we  have  in  scripture  of  the  confirmed  wickedness  of  spirits 
abandoned  to  despair,  and  who  have  had  many  thousands 
of  years  to  improve  and  harden  themselves  in  vice  ? 

Some  have  made  a  difficulty  of  the  incarnation  of 
Christ ;  as  if  there  were  in  that  doctrine  somewhat  pecu- 
liar! v  hard  to  admit,  or  next  to  absurd.  But  in  such  gases, 
where  nothing  is  required  to  be  granted,  but  what  is  anal- 
ogous to  the  course  of  nature  ;  it  does  not  seem  reasonable 
to  hesitate  at  any  supposed  difficulty,  which,  if  removed, 
would  leave  another  confessedly  as  hard  to  surmount. 
How  a  spiritual  being,  of  any  rank  whatever,  comes  to  be 
immured  in  a  material  vehicle,  is  to  us  wholly  inconceiv- 
able. The  incarnation  of  a  human  soul  is  a  mystery  ut- 
terly inexplicable  by  human  sagacity.  Nor  is  it  at  all 
more  incomprehensible,  how  an  angel  or  archangel,  should 
animate  a  body,  than  how  a  human  mind  should.  The 
difficulty  does  not  arise  from  the  rank,  or  dignity,  of  the 
spiritual  being,  but  from  the  nature  of  spirits  in  general  ; 
whose  power 'of  animating  and  actuating  a  material  vehicle, 
and  the  nexus,  which  forms  the  union  between  two  natures 
so  different,  are  to  us  wholly  inconceivable,. 

And  as  to  the  objection,  'of  its  being  improbable,  that  a 
being  of  such  dignity,  as  that  of  the  Messiah,  should  con- 
descend to  assume,  for  a  time,  the  lowest  station  of  ration, 
al  nature  ;   it  will  presently  vanish,  on  considering  the  im. 

page  257. 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  457 

portance  of  the  purpose,  for  which  he  did  so.  For  if,  in 
consequence  of  this  amazing  condescension,  there  should, 
in  a  consistence  with  the  divine  rectitude,  and  established 
order  of  the  moral  world,  and  the  freedom  of  the  creature, 
many  thousands,  perhaps  millions,  of  our  species,  be  raised 
hereafter  by  degrees  to  such  greatness  and  goodness,  that 
the  present  station  of  the  archangel  Gabriel  will  be  regard- 
ed by  them  as  an  inferior  one  (which  will  certainly  one 
day  be  the  case)  who  can  think  any  apparatus,  to  gain 
such  an  end,  too  costly,  or  operose  ?  Whoever  duly  con- 
siders the  stupendous  excellence  of  a  nature,  which,  how- 
ever mean  and  low  at  present,  is  yet  formed  capable  of  an 
endless  progression  in  every  noble  quality  ;  will  not  think 
any  contrivance  ill  bestowed,  or  any  condescension  too 
low,  to  gain  the  moral  improvement  of  such  a  species.  Add 
that  condescension  on  a  proper  occasion,  and  for  some  im- 
portant end,  is  suitable  to  a  superior  nature  ;  and  peculiar- 
ly agreeable  to  every  great  mind.  And  let  the  considera- 
tion of  the  high  exaltations  of  the  Messiah,  in  consequence 
of  his  gracious  interposition  for  the  recovery  of  a  ruined 
species,  be  taken  in.  Add  likewise  the  Divine  pleasure 
of  exerting  a  benevolence  so  extensive,  that  an  eternity 
will  be  employed  by  a  race  of  beings,  delivered  b}  it  from 
utter  destruction,  in  celebrating  its  praises,  and  expressing 
that  gratitude,  which  every  succeeding  period  of  their  hap- 
py existence  will  heighten,  every  new  enjoyment  wiii  in- 
flame with  ever  growing  raptures. 

To  pretend  to  dispute  whether  it  was  possible  for  man- 
kind to  be  restored  by  any  other  means  than  those  which, 
Infinite  Wisdom  has  chosen,  is  both  presumptuous  and 
useless.  It  is  our  wisdom  to  consider  what  we  have  to  do, 
as  the  moral  constitution  of  things  is ;  not  to  amuse  our- 
selves with  vain  speculations  upon  what  could  do  us  no 
service  to  know,  and  what  it  is  impossible  we  should  by 
our  own  sagacity  ever  discover.  In  general,  it  is  evident, 
that  the  repentance  and  reformation  of  offenders  was  not 
of  itself,  without  some  additional  apparatus,  sufficient,  con- 
sistently with  the  Divine  scheme,  to  restore  a  guilty  order 
of  beings  to  a  capacity  of  being  received  to  pardon.  For 
Divine  wisdom  never  uses  a  more  operose  method  of  pro- 
ceeding, when  one  less  so  will  answer  the  end. 

Whether  wc  shall  at  all,  in  the  present  state,  be  able  to 

3  M 


458  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

determine  wherein  the  principal  propriety  or  necessity  of 
the  death  of  Christ  consisted,  an(T  how  it  came  to  be  effica- 
cious for  our  restoration  to  the  Divine  favour,  is  greatly  to 
be  questioned  ;  as  scripture  has  only  declared  to  us  the 
fact,  that  it  is  chiefly  by  his  laying  down  his  life  for  man- 
kind, which  was  the  great  end  of  his  coming  into  the  world, 
that  we  are  to  be  received  to  pardcn  and  mercy  ;  but  has 
given  us  no  precise  account  of  the  modus  of  the  operation 
of  his  death  for  that  purpose,  nor  how  the  ends  of  the  Di- 
vine government  were  answered  by  it.  In  general,  may 
it  be  said,  that  the  consideration  of  so  important  a  scheme 
found  necessary  for  restoring  an  offending  order  of  beings, 
is  likely  to  strike  all  rational  minds,  who  may  ever  come  to 
the  knowledge  of  it,  with  a  very  awful  sense  of  the  fatal 
evil  of  vice,  which  made  it  necessary.  And  as  they  must 
see  the  difficulty  of  finding  such  a  mediator  for  themselves, 
in  case  of  their  offending,  they  may  thereby  be  the  more 
effectually  deterred  from  disobedience.  It  may  impress 
them  with  high  notions  of  the  Divine  purity,  and  aversion 
to  evil,  which  made  the  restoration  of  offenders  a  work  so 
difficult  and  expensive.  And.  we  know  not  how  wide  each 
particular  in  the  moral  scheme  of  the  Divine  government 
may  extend.  We  are  told  in  scripture,  that  the  angels 
desire  to  look  into  the  mystery  of  our  salvation  :  that  some 
of  them  have  actually  fallen  from  their  obedience  is  doubt- 
ed by  none  who  admit  revelation :  That  there  is  any  state 
of  finite  virtue  and  happiness  so  secure,  as  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  fall  from  it ;  or  that  created  beings  can,  consist- 
ently with  freedom,  be  raised  to  any  such  state  as  to  defy 
weakness  and  error,  and  to  be  above  all  advantage  from 
instruction  by  precept  or  example,  is  By  no  means  to  be 
affirmed.  And  if  there  be  no  reason  to  doubt,  but  in  all 
states  free  agents  are  fallible  (though  more  and  more  se- 
cure of  continuing  in  their  obedience,  as  more  perfect) 
since  according  to  scripture  even  the  angels  are  chargeable 
with  folly  ;  it  may  then  be  put  as  a  conjecture,  whether 
the  scheme  of  the  restoration  of  mankind  may  not  have 
immensely  extensive  and  valuable  effects  upon  various  or- 
ders of  moral  agents  throughout  the  universe  for  preserv- 
ing them  in  their  obedience.  This  effect  the  considera- 
tion of  it  ought  to  have  especially,  above  all,  on  us,  who 
are  most  nearly  interested  in  it ;  and  we  ought  not  to  hope 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  459 

to  escape,  if  we  neglect  so  great  salvation ;  and  ought 
therefore,  if  we  name  the  name  of  Christ,  to  resolve  to  de- 
part from  iniquity.  It  is  also  to  be  expected,  that  the  con- 
sideration of  what  our  everlasting  happiness  cost,  should 
immensely  enhance  the  value  of  it  to  those  of  our  species 
who  shall  hereafter  be  found  fit  fork;  especially  with  the 
additional  consideration  of  the  hideous  ruin  we  shall  have 
escaped,  which  is  such  as  to  render  it  necessary  for  the 
Son  of  God  to  leave  for  a  season  his  eternal  glory,  to  de- 
scend to  our  lower  world,  and  give  himself  to  death,  to  de- 
liver as  many  of  us  as  would  from  it.  That  our  Saviour 
died  a  witness  to  the  truth  of  his  own  mission  and  doctrine, 
as  well  as  a  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  mankind,  is  certain. 
But  it  is  evident,  that  his  death  was  very  different  both  in 
intention  and  consequences,  from  those  of  the  martyrs. 
That  his  death  was  also  a  glorious  instance  of  obedience, 
and  a  noble  example  for  our  imitation,  and  that  of  all  ra- 
tional agents,  is  also  to  be  taken  in,  and  heightens  the 
grandeur  of  the  scheme.  A  consequence  from  the  obedi- 
ence and  death  of  Christ,  mentioned  in  scripture,  and  hint- 
ed above,  is  his  being  "highly  exalted,  and  receiving  a 
name  above  every  name  in  heaven  and  earth,  to  the  glory 
of  God  the  Father."  Of  which  likewise  we  can  see  the 
propriety  and  justice.  And  scripture  also  countenances 
the  opinion,  that  the  high  exaltation  of  such  a  number  of 
mankind,  as  shall  be  found  capable  of  it,  is  given  him  as 
a  reward  for  his  sufferings. 

However,  none  of  these  considerations,  nor  all  of  them 
together,  come  up  to  the  point  in  question,  viz.  What 
connexion  in  the  nature  of  things  there  is  between  the 
death  of  Christ  and  the  salvation  of  mankind.  This  will 
probably  be  a  desideratum  as  long  as  the  present  state  lasts. 

To  expect  that  we  should  be  informed  of  the  Divine 
economy  with  the  same  distinctness  as  of  our  own  duty, 
would  be  a  piece  of  arrogance  above  ordinary.  It  is  by 
experience  we  are  instructed  in  temporals,  as  well  cs  spir- 
ituals; and  we  proceed  according  to  it,  and  are  successful 
in  the  affairs  of  life,  while  we  know  little  or  nothing  of 
the  means  by  which  the  Divine  wisdom  acts  in  the  natu- 
ral world,  and  ought  in  all  reason  to  expect  to  know  still 
less  of  his  scheme  in  a  supernatural  interposition ;  as  the 
plan  of  our  redemption  may  be  called.     Did  we  know, 


460  OF  RFVEALED  RELIGION'. 

which  probably  if  is  not  proper  we  should,  more  of  the. 
foundations  and  connexions  of  the  various  parts  of  that 
sublime  scheme,  we  should  then  know  nothing  useful  to 
us  but  our  duty.  That  we  know  now  ;  and  with  such 
clearness,  as  will  render  us  wholly  inexcusable,  if  we  be 
not  found  in  the  full  and  faithful  performance  of  it. 

The  doctrine  of  the  future  resurrection  of  the  body 
may,  as  properly  as  any  one,  be  said  to  be  peculiar  to  rev- 
elation. For  there  is  no  reason  to  think,  that  even  the 
more  civilized  heathen  nations  had  generally  any  notion  of 
it.  On  the  contrary  we  find  the  enlightened  Athenians, 
in  the  apostolic  times,  startled  at  it,  as  altogether  new  to 
them.  But,  to  use  the  words  of  the  great  apostle  of  the 
Gentiles  to  his  hearers,  "  Why  should  it  be  thought  a 
thing  incredible  that  God  should  raise  the  dead  ?"  To 
give  life  and  being  at  first  to  what  was  once  nothing,  is 
certainly  at  least  as  difficult  as  to  restore  a  bodily  vehicle 
from  a  state  of  corruption,  and  to  re-unite  to  it  the  mind, 
which  had  still  preserved  its  existence  during  the  state  of 
separation.  And  the  same  Omnipotence,  which  was  equal 
to  the  former,  may  be  fairly  concluded  equal  to  the  latter. 
The  precise  modus,  in  which  this  re-union  of  the  material 
and  spiritual  parts  of  the  human  nature  at  the  resurrection 
will  be  executed,  is  to  us,  as  well  as  innumerable  other 
effects  of  the  divine  power,  wholly  unknown.  The  fol- 
lowing hypothesis,  or  conjectures,  (the  author  of  which 
I  cannot  recollect)  has  been  thought  ingenious.  That 
there  may  be  originally  disposed,  id  the  structure  of  the 
human  frame,  a  system  of  stamina,  in  miniature,  of  the 
future  ceriel  or  cetherial  resurrection-body,  so  enveloped 
or  wrapt  up,  as  to  continue  incorruptible,  till  the  consum- 
mation of  all  things  ;  at  which  time,  by  a  pre-established 
law  of  Nature,  it  may  unfold  itself  in  a  manner  analogous 
to  conception  or  vegetation,  and  the  soul  being  re-united 
to  it,  the  perfect  man  may  again  appear,  renewed  in  his 
nature  and  state,  and  yet  in  general  the  same  compound 
being  he  is  at  present,  consisting  of  soul  and  body,  or, 
perhaps  more  properly,  of  body,  soul,  and  spirit.  The 
apostle  Paul's  comparison  of  the  death  and  burial  of  the 
body  to  the  sowing  of  a  grain  of  wheat;  and  the  resur- 
rection of  the  future  bod}  to  the  springing  up  of  the  stalk, 
which  we  know  to  be  nothing  else  than  the  unfolding  of 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  4G1 

the  minute  stamina  originally  disposed  in  the  grain  sown, 
eives  countenance  to  this  conjecture,  and   probably  fur- 
nished the  first  hint  of  it.     It  is  not  my  purpose  to  estab- 
lish anv  one  hypothesis  whatever.  The  only  end  answered 
bv  mentioning  a  conjecture  for  solving  this  difficulty,  if 
it  be  a  difficulty,  is  to  show  the  doctrine  of  a  future  res- 
urrection to  be'  conceivable,  without   any  absurdity.      It 
must  even  be  owned,  that  the  scheme  of  a  restoration,  or 
renovation,  of  the  whole  human  nature   is  incomparably 
more  beautiful  and  regular,  and  consequently  more  likely 
to  be  the  true  one,  than  that  received  by  the  heathen 
world,  which  supposed  the  total  loss  or  destruction  of  one 
essential  part  of  ihe  nature,  I  mean  the  body,  and  made 
the  future  man  a  quite  different  being,  an  unbodied  spirit, 
instead  of  an  embodied  one.  Whereas  the  Christian  scheme 
represents  the  dissolution  and  separation  of  the  body  for 
a  time  as  the  effect  and  punishment  of  vice,  and  rs  resto- 
ration as  the  effect  of  the  kind  interposition  of  our  glori- 
ous Deliverer ;  bv  which  means  the   whole   existence   of 
the  human  species  (I  mean,  that  part  of  them  which  shall 
be  found  fit  for  life  and  immortalin  )  appears  uniform,  and 
of  a  piece  ;  and  after  the  conclusion  of  the  separate  state, 
o-oes  on  as  before,  only  with  the  advantage  of  being  incom- 
parably  more  perfect,"  though  still  the  same  in  kind. 

The  views  held  forth  in  Scripture  of  the  future  restor- 
ation, glorv,  and  happiness  of  the  peculiar  people  of  God  \ 
of  the  "universal  establishment  of  the  most  pure  and  per- 
fect of  religions;  of  the  millemum,  or  paradise   restored, 
with  the  general  prevalency  of  virtue  and  goodness;  by 
which  means  a  very  great  "proportion  of  those,  who  shall 
live  in  that  period,  will  come  to  happiness  ;  all  these  views 
are  sublime,  worthy  of  the  Divine  revelation  which  exhib- 
its them,  and  suitable  to  the  greatness  of  the  moral  econ- 
omy.    But  as  the  future  parts  of  prophecy  are,  and  ought 
to  be,  difficult  to  understand  in  all  their  minute  particulars, 
as  is  'evident  from  the  diversity  of  opinions  given  by  the 
commentators  on  those  parts  of  holy  writ ;  while  they  gen- 
erally agree,  that  the  above-mentioned  particulars  are  in 
scripture  held  forth  as  to  be   hereafter  accomplished  ;  as 
as  this,  i  say,  is  the  case,  it  may  not  be  necessary  that  I 
attempt  to  fix  any  one  particular  scheme  of  the  comple- 
tion of  those  parts  of  prophecy. 


462  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

The  doctrine  of  a  future  general  judgment  of  the  whole 
human  race  by  the  same  Divine  Person,  who,  by  the 
power  of  the  Father,  made  the  world,  and  who  redeemed 
it,  is  held  forth  in  scripture  in  a  manner  suitable  to  the  pomp 
with  which  so  awful  a  scene  may  be  expected  to  be  trans- 
acted. That  the  whole  Divine  economy,  with  respect  to 
this,  world,  should  conclude  with  a  general  inquiry  into, 
and  public  declaration  of,  the  character,  and  so  much  of 
the  past  conduct,  as  may  be  necessary,  of  every  individ- 
ual of  the  species  ;  and  that,  in  consequence  of  the  dif- 
ferent behaviour  of  each,  during  the  state  of  discipline 
and  probation,  their  future  existence  should  be  happy  or 
miserable ;  that  every  individual  should  be  disposed  of 
according  to  what  he  has  made  himself  fit  for;  all  this  the 
perfect  rectitude  of  the  Divine  nature  indispensably  re- 
quires. And  without  this  conclusion  of  the  whole  econ- 
omy, the  moral  government  of  the  world  must  be  imper- 
fect ;  or  rather,  without  it,  the  very  idea  of  moral  gov- 
ernment is  absurd.  That  the  decision  of  the  future  state 
of  men  will  turn  chiefly  upon  their  general  prevailing  cha- 
racters ;  the  habits  they  have  acquired ;  the  dispositions 
they  have  cultivated  ;  their  attachment  to  virtue  and  obe- 
dience, or  to  irregularity  and  vice,  seems  probable  both 
from  Scripture  and  reason.  So  that,  as  on  one  hand  a  few 
errors,  if  not  persisted  in,  but  repented  of  and  reformed, 
being  consistent  with  a  prevailing  good  character,  may  be 
overlooked  ;  so,  on  the  oiher,  a  thousand  acts  of  charity 
or  virtue  of  any  kind,  if  done  from  indirect  views,  or  by 
persons  of  hypocritical  or. bad  hearts,  will  gain  no  favour 
from  the  eenerai  Judge.  Of  what  consequence  is  it  then 
that  we  be  sure  of  our  own  integrity !  And  how  dreadful 
ma)  the  effects  prove  of  going  out  of  the  present  state  of 
discipline,  with  one  vicious  habit  uncorrected,  or  with  a 
temper  of  mind  defective  in  respect  of  one  virtue ! 

Whether  all  the  more  secret  errors  of  persons  of  good 
characters,  of  which  they  have  sincerely  repented,  which 
they  have  for  years  lamented  with  floods  of  undissembled 
tears,  and  which  they  have  thoroughly  reformed,  will  be 
displayed  to  the  full  view  of  men  and  angds,  seems  a 
questionable,  point :  For  it  does  not  to  reason  appear  ab- 
solutely necessary  :  It  being  easily  enough  conceivable, 
that  the  character  of  a  person  mav  be  determinable  by 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  463 

Divine  Wisdom,  and  capable  of  being  set  forth  to  the 
general  view  in  a  manner  sufficiently  satisfactory,  without 
so  minute  an  examination.  x\nd  if  so  it  may  be  conclu- 
ded, that  the  sincere  penitent  will  be  put  to  no  needless 
pain.  And  if  there  is  a  pain  more  cruel  than  another,  it 
is  for  a  generous  mind  to  be  exposed  to  public  shame. 
Besides  what  reason  may  suggest  on  this  head,  the  numer- 
ous'expressions  of  Scripture,  of  "  blotting  out  the  sins 
of  penitents  from  the  books  of  remembrance;  of  hiding, 
covering,  and  forgetting  them,"  and  the  like,  seem  to 
favour  the  opinion,  that  the  character  and  conduct  of  pen- 
itents will  be  only  so  far  displayed,  as  to  show  them  to  be 
fit  objects  of  the  Divine  mercy. 


SECTION  IV. 
Considerations  on  the  Credibility  of  Scripture. 

IT  is  not  only  to  the  studious  and  learned,  that  the 
proofs  of  Revelation  lie  level.  All  men,  who  will  apply 
their  faculties  with  the  same  diligence  and  attention  which 
they  every  day  bestow  upon  the  common  affairs  and  even 
the  amusements  of  life,  may  be  rationally  convinced,  that 
they  are  under  Divine  Government,  and  must  feel,  that 
they  are  accountable  creatures  ;  upon  which  fundamental 
principlesthe  whole  scheme  of  Revelation  being  construct- 
ed, they  may  easily  bring  themselves  to  see  the  force  of 
the  evidence  arising  from  miracles  and  the  completion  of 
prophecy,  particularly  those  relating  to  the  Jewish  people  ; 
which,  in  conjunction  with  the  character  of  Moses  and  the 
Prophets  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles ;  a  due  attention  to 
the  nature  and  tendency  of  the  doctrines  and  precepts  con- 
tained in  scripture ;  and  the  consideration  of  the  establish- 
ment of  Christianity,  so  wholly  unaccountable  upon  any- 
other  footing,  than  its  being  from  God ;  may  give  full 
and  well  grounded  satisfaction  to  any  considerate  person, 
that  all  the  objections  of  the  opposers  of  Revealed  Reli- 
gion can  never  amount  to  such  a  degree  of  weight  in  the 
whole,  as  to  over- balance  the  positive  proof  for  it,  or 
yield  a  sufficient  proof  that  the  whole  is  a  forgery. 

At  the  same  time  it  must  be  observed,  that  to  be  quali- 
fied for  examining  in  a  proper  manner  all  the  various  ar- 


464  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

gumcnts  in  favour  of  Revelation,  requires  a  very  extensive 
knowledge  in  various  ways,  as  in  philological  and  critieal 
learning,  history,  and  philosophy,  natural  and  moral. 
Whieh  shows  in  a  very  strange  light  the  presumption  of 
many  men  of  supernatural  and  narrow  improvements,  who 
pretend  to  oppose  religion,  and  rashiy  enter  into  a  dispute 
for  whieh  they  are  so  ill  furnished. 

For  it  is  die  unfair  and  fallacious  proceeding  of  many 
disingenuous  opposers  of  revealed  religion,  to  detach  some 
single  branch  of  proof,  or  some  doubtful  argument,  and 
by  caviiing  at  that,  endeavour  to  overturn  the  whole  evi- 
dence for  revelation.  But  whoever  will  consider  the  sub- 
ject with  candour,  will  see,  that  it  is  of  such  an  extensive 
nature,  comprehends  so  many  different  views,  and  is  estab- 
lished upon  such  a  variety  of  arguments,  drawn  from  dif- 
ferent parts  of  knowledge,  that  the  true  state,  and  full  re- 
sult, of  the  evidence,  upon  the  whole,  cannot,  by  the  nature 
of  the  thing,  be  reduced  to  one  point ;  and  consequently 
that  taking  any  one  narrow  view  of  it,  and  judging  from 
that,  is  the  way  to  deceive  ourselves  and  others.  It  is  in- 
deed as  if  a  man  were  rashly  to  pronounce  that  the  earth  is 
of  no  regular  figure  whatever,  merely  from  observing  the 
irregularity  of  the  Alps,  and  other  ranges  of  mountains, 
which  fill  the  eye  ol  the  traveller,  while  the  whole  globe  is 
too  large,  and  too  near,  for  the  human  sight  to  compre- 
hend its  general  figure.  Yet  the  very  first  principles  of 
geography  show,  that  the  protuberance  of  the  highest  moun- 
tain of  the  world,  being  but  three  miles  perpendicular,,  is 
no  greater  irregularity  upon  a  globe,  eight  thousand  miles 
in  diameter,  than  the  little  roughnesses  upon  an  orange  arc 
derogations  from  the  general  roundness  of  its  figure  ;  as 
a  mite,  or  other  very  small  insect,  might  be  supposed  to 
imagine  them. 

To  consider  any  complex  subject  in  a  partial  manner, 
exclusive  of  any  material  part,  and  without  taking  in  the 
whole  cf  it,  is  not  considering  it  as  it  is  ;  and  subjects  will 
not  be  understood  otherwise  than  as  they  are.  Men  of 
narrow  minds  may  run  themselves,  and  designing  men 
others,  into  endless  labyrinths,  and  inextricable  errors  :  but 
Truth  stands  upon  its  own  eternal  and  immoveable  basis  : 
and  Wisdom  will  in  the  end  be  justified  of  her  children. 

The  whole  evidence  of  Revelation  is  not  prophecy  alone, 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  453 

nor  miracles  alone,  nor  the  sublimity  of  its  doctrines  alone, 
nor  the  purity  of  its  precepts  alone,  nor  the  character  of  Mo- 
set  and  the  Prophetic  Christ,  and  his  Apostles  alone,  nor 
the  internal  character  of  simplicity  in  the  writings  of  scrip- 
ture alone;  nor  any  one  of  the  other  branches  of  proof  alone; 
but  the  joint  coincidence  and  accumulated  effect  of  them 
all  concentred.  Now,  he  who  can  bring  himself  to  believe 
seriously,  that  such  a  number  of  amazing  coincidences, 
such  a  variety  of  evidence,  presumptive  and  positive,  cir- 
cumstantial and  essential,  collateral  and  direct,  internal  and 
external,  should  by  the  Divine  Providence  be  suffered  to 
concur,  to  the  effectual  and  remediless  deception  of  the 
most  inquisitive,  judicious,  and  ingenuous  part  of  man- 
kind, must  have  strange  notions  of  the  Divine  economy  in 
the  moral  world.  And  he,  who,  in  spite  of  the  super-abun- 
dant and  accumulated  evidence  for  the  truth  of  Revelation, 
will  suffer  himself  to  be  misled  into  opposition  against  it, 
mereh  on  the  account  of  some  single  circumstantial  dif- 
ficulty, must  have  no  head  for  judging  complicated  evi- 
dence; which  yet  every  man  has  occasion  to  weigh,  and  to 
act  upon  almost  every  day  of  his  life.  And  he,  who,  from  in- 
direct views  of  any  kind,  labours  to  mislead  mankind  into 
opposition  against  what  would  be  infinitely  to  their  advantage 
to  receive,  is  the  common  enemy  of  truth,  and  of  mankind. 

If  the  sacred  history  of  scripture  has  not  the  internal 
marks  of  truth,  there  is  no  reason  to  give  credit  to  any  his- 
tory in  the  world.  And  to  question  the  veracity  of  ancient 
history  in  the  gross,  would  be  (to  mention  no  other  absurd 
consequences)  doubt'ng  whether  there  were  any  men  of 
integrity  in  the  world,  till  these  four  or  five  centuries  last 
past.  The  remarkable  coincidence  betwixt  sacred  and 
profane  history  shows  the  genuineness  of  the  former;  and 
its  delivering  grave  and  credible  accounts  of  things,  while 
many  of  the  ancient  writers  amuse  us  with  fables  evidently- 
drawn  from  imperfect  accounts  of  the  sacred  story,  plainly 
discover  scripture  to  have  been  the  original  from  which 
the  other  is  an  imperfect  copy.  Of  the  foundation  and 
measure  of  certainty  attainable  by  testimony,  I  have  treated 
elsewhere.* 

The  fragments  of  ancient  Phoenecian  historians  pre- 
served by  Ensebius ;  with  what  we  have   of  Zeno,  the 

•  Sec  pag;e  226. 
3  N 


1 

466  OF  REVEALED  RELTGION. 

Egyptian  writers,  whose  opinions  and  accounts  of  things 
are  preserved  by  Diogenes,  Laertius,  Diodorus  Siculus, 
and  others;  the  fragments  we  have  ascribed  to  Linus, 
Orpheas,  Epicharmus ;  the  remains  of  Sanchoniathon, 
Berosus,  Menetho,  Philo  Bybilus,  Eurysus  the  Pytha- 
gorean, Hipparchus,  Amelias  the  Platonist,  Hitrclitus, 
Timceus,  Chalsidicus,  (who  writes  of  Moses  J  Homer, 
Hesiod,  Callimachus,  Aristohanes,  Plato,  Cicero,  Ovid, 
all  these  in  what  they  say  of  the  creation,  agree  in  the 
main  with  Moses''  account  of  it.  Homer,  Hesiod,  Calli- 
machus,  Aristobulus,  Thcophilus  of '  Antioch,  Encian,  Dion 
Casmtsx  Suetonius,  Josephus,  Philo,  Tibullus,  mention, 
or  allude  to,  the  universal  custom  of  resting  every  seventh 
day.  The  Egyptian  writers,  Plato,  Strabo,  Ovid,  Virgil, 
and  others,  mention  the  state  of  innocence,  and  the  Fall. 
Philo  Byblius,  from  Sanchoniathon  and  Plutarch,  show, 
that  several  particulars  of  that  Fall  were  received  by  the 
most  ancient  heathens.  Ferdinand  Mendesius  testifies, 
that  many  particulars  relating  to  Adam,  Eve,  the  forbid- 
den tree,  and  the  serpent,  are  to  be  found  among  the  natives 
of  Peru,  and  the  Philippine  islands.  And  the  name  of 
Adam  is  known  among  the  Indian  Brachmans,  which  word 
has  been  by  some  thought  to  have  been  a  corruption  oiAbra- 
hamans  ;  and  it  has  been  thought  probable  that  the  religion 
of  Zoroastres  and  the  Magi  is  derived  from  that  patriarch. 
The  trurh  of  Moses''  account  of  the  flood  is  attested  by 
Berosus,  Diodorus,  Varro,  Pliny,  Plutarch,  Lucian,  Moloy 
Nicoliius,  Damascenes,  and  others  ;  some  of  whom  men- 
tion the  name  of  Noah,  the  ark,  and  the  dove.  Josephus 
Acosta,  and  Antonio  Herrera  affirm,  that  at  Cuba,  Mecho- 
ana,  Nicaragua,  mid  other  parts  of  America,  the  memory 
of  the  flood,  and  the  ark,  are  preserved,  and  were  found, 
with  several  other  doctrines,  of  mere  revelation,  upon  the 
first  discoveries  of  those  places  bv  the  Europeans.  But 
to  proceed,  Berosus  Manetho,  Hesiod,  Nicolaus,  Damas- 
cenus,  and  others,  mention  the  age  of  the  first  men  to  have 
been  almost  a  thousand  years.  Plutarch  Maximus,  I'yrius, 
Catullus,  and  others,  speak  of  an  intercourse  between  God 
and  men  in  ancient  times. —  Porphyry,  Jambliciis,  and 
others,  speak  of  angels.  The  history  of  the  tower  of  Babel, 
under  the  poetical  disguise  of  the  giants  to.  scale  heaven, 
is  found  in  Homer,  Virgil,  Horace,  Ovidt  Lucan,  and  the 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  46T 

Sybilline  Oracle  quoted  by  Josephus  .     Diodorus  Siculus, 
Strabo,  Tacitus,  Pliny,  and  Solinus,  mention  the  des> ruc- 
tion of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah.     The  history  of  Abraham 
and  other  patriarchs,  agreeable  to  the  writings  of  Moses, 
is  found  in  Philo  Bi/hlius,  from   Sanchoniathon,  and  in 
Berosus,  Hecataus,  Damoccnus,  Artapanus,  Eupolemus, 
Demetrius,  and  Justin  from  Trogus  Pompeius,  who  also 
gives  Joseph's  history  agreeable  to  scripture.     By  several 
of  these  the  principal  acts  of  Moses  are  related.     Of  whom 
mention  is  also  made  bv  Manetho,  Lysimachus  Chtfremon, 
Diodorus  Siculus,  Longmus,  Strabo,  Pliny,  and  Tacitus. 
Diodorus  speaks  of  the  drying  up  of  the  Red  Sea.    Herodo- 
tus, Diodorus,  Strabo,  Philo  Byblius,  Aristophanes,  Tacitus, 
Horace,  and  Juvenal,  mention  the  ceremony  of  circumcis- 
ion.  Eusebius  tells  us,  that  a  book  was  written  by  Eupo- 
lemus  on  Elijah's  Miracles.     The  History  of  Jonah  is  in 
Lycophron  and  JEneas  Gazmis.  Julian  the  Apostate  owns 
that  there  were  inspired  men  among  the  Jews.     Menander 
mentions  the  great  drought  in  the  time  of  Elijah.     The 
histories  of  David  and  Solomon  are  given  in  a  pretty  full 
manner  in  the  remains  of  the  Phoenician  x\nnals,  and  Da- 
mascene'  History,  in  Eupolemus,  and  Dins'  Phoenician 
History,  who  speaks  of  riddles,  or  hard  questions,  sent 
betwixt  Solomon  and  Hiram  ;  of  which  also  Menander  the 
Ephesian  Historian,  Alexander,  Polyhistor,  and  others, 
give  an  account.    Hazael,  king  of  Syria,  is  mentioned  by 
Justin.     Menander  the  Historian  mentions   Salmanasor, 
who  carried  the  Israelites,  or  ten  tribes,  into  that  captivity, 
from  which  thev  are  not  yet  returned.     The  name  and 
expeditions  of  Sennacherib,  king  of  Assyria,  are  found  in 
Berosus'   Cha.ldaic's  and  Herodotus'  History,  which  last 
relates  the  destruction  of  his  vast  army  (2  Kings  XVII) 
with  a  mixture  of  fable.     Suetonius,  Tacitus,  Pliny  the 
younger,  and  Numenius  testify,  that  there  was  such  a  per- 
son as  Jesus  Christ.     His  miracles  are  owned  by  Celsus, 
Julian  the  Apostate,  and  the  Jewish  writers,  who  oppose 
Christianity.     Porphyry,  though  an  enemy  to  the  Chris- 
tian Religion,  says,  "  after  Christ  was  worshipped,  no  one 
received  any  benefit  from  the  gods."   Suetonius,  Tacitus, 
Pliny,  Julian  the  Apostate,  and  the  Jewish  writers  men- 
tion his  being  put  to  death.     And   Tacitus  affirms,  that 
many  were  put  to  de'ath  for  their  adherence  to  his  religion, 


4,68  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

A  very  particular  and  favourable  account  of  the  character 
and  behaviour  oi  the  first  Christians  is  given  b\  Pliny,  in 
a  tetter  to  the  Emperor  Trajan,  still  extant.  Phlegon,  in 
his  Annals,  mentions  the  miracles  of  St.  Peter.  And 
Si.  Paul  is  celebrated  in  a  fragment  of  Long  in  us  among 
eminent  orators.  The  History  of  our  Saviour's  life,  death, 
resurrection,  and  ascension,  was  declared  by  the  Apostles 
in  the  lace  of  his  enemies,  and  in  the  very  country,  where 
he  lived,  died  and  rose  again. — They  wrote  their  accounts 
in  Greek,  which  was  universally  understood,  and  related 
the  things,  as  they  passed  a  very  few  years  before,  and 
which  must  have  been  fresh  in  every  body's  memory. 
The  name  of  Jesus,  must  have  been  entered  into  the  pub- 
lic tables,  or  registers,  at  his  birth.  To  which  accordingly 
Justin  Martyr  and  Tertullian  appeal.  And  the  account 
ol  his  death  and  resurrection  must,  according  to  the  cus- 
tom, when  any  thing  remarkable  happened  in  any  of  the 
provinces  of  the  empire,  have  bten  sent  to  the  court  of 
Rome.  The  memory  of  the  slaughter  of  the  innocents  is 
preserved  by  Augustus'  remark  on  Herod's  cruelty.  The 
miraculous  darkness  at  our  Saviour's  crucifixion  (which 
was  undoubtedly  supernatural ;  it  being  impossible  that 
the  sun  should  be  eclipsed  by  the  moon,  which  was  then  in 
opposition)  is  affirmed  by  Tertullian  to  have  been  upon  re- 
cord in  his  time  in  the  public  registers.  Our  Saviour  is 
Several  times  mentioned  by  Josephus  ;  though  not  in  such  a 
manner  as  so  extraordinary  a  character  deserved.  But 
nothing  is  more  common  than  such  expected  neglects 
in  historians.  Besides,  it  is  probable  that  Josephus  might 
be  under  some  constraint  in  touching  upon  the  subject  of 
Christ  and  his  R<  ligion  ;  as  he  makes  honourable  mention 
of  John  Baptist,  and  of  James  the  brother  of  Jesus  \  to 
whose  murder  he  ascribes  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem. 
Such  public  passages  as  the  dumbness  inflicted  on  Zach- 
arius,  while  the  people  were  waiting  without  the  temple  ; 
of  the  wise  men  from  the  east ;  of  the  murder  of  the  inno- 
cents ;  of  our  Saviour's  driving  some  hundreds,  probably, 
of  people  out  the  outer  court  of  the  temple,  immediately 
after  his  triumph,  which  must  have  alarmed  the  whole 
city  ;.  ihe  prodigies  at  his  death  ;  the  dreadful  end  of  Judas 
Iscariot ;  the  names  of  the  Roman  Emperor,  and  Gover- 
nor, oi  Herod,  of  the  High  Priest,  of  JVicodemus,  of  Joseph 


OF  REVEALED  RFLTGION.  4(59 

of '  Arimathaa,  of  Gamaliel,  Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  Ser- 
gius  Paulus,  Simon  Magus.  Felix,  king-  Agrippa,  Ter- 
tullus,  Gallio,  and  many  other  persons  of  the  highest  rank 
mentioned  with  great  freedom,  shows,  that  the  historians 
were  under  no  apprehension  of  being  detecieci ;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  establish  the  genuineness  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment History  by  chronological  and  geographical  evidences. 
Nor  would  any  set  of  impost ers  have  overloaded  their 
scheme  with  such  a  number  of  circumstances  no  way- 
necessary  to  it,  for  fear  of  committing  some  blunder,  which 
might  have  detected  them.  The  miraculous  power  of  in- 
flicting death  upon  offenders,  as  in  the  case  cf Ananias  and 
Sapphira,  and  blindness  in  that  of  Elymas,  was  not  a  thing 
to  be  boasted  of,  if  it  had  not  been  trtlt ;  because  of  the 
danger  of  being  called  to  account  by  the  civil  magistrate. 
And  that  the  New  Testament  History  is  not  a  forgery  oi  lat- 
ter times,  is  much  better  established,  than  that  the  iEneid, 
the  Metamorphosis,  and  Horace's,  works,  were  writ  in  the 
Augustan  age.  For  none  of  them  was  authenticated  by 
whole  churches,  nor  are  they  cited  by  multitudes  of  authors 
cotemporary  wiih  them,  as  the  apostolical  writings  are  by 
Barnabas,  Clemens,  Romanus,  Ignatius,  Polycarp,  and 
the  rest,  and  acknowledged  to  be  the  genuine  works  of  the 
authors,  whose  names  they  bear,  by  enemies,  as  Tripo, 
Julian  the  Apostate,  and  others  of  the  earliest  ages,  and 
authenticated  by  succeeding  writers  through  every  follow- 
ing period.  The  numerous  ancient  apologists  for  Christi- 
anity, in  their  addresses  to  the  Emperors,  confirm  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  New  Testament  History  by  their  appeals  to 
records  then  extant,  and  persons  then  living.  And  his- 
tory shows,  that  those  appeals  were  so  convincing  as  to 
gain  the  Christians,  from  time  to  time,  favour  and  mercy 
from  the  Emperors. 

That  the  Mosaic  history  of  the  Patriarchs,  and  their 
posterity  the  Jews  and  Israelites,  is  genuine,  is  in  a  man- 
ner visible  at  this  day  from  the  present  circumstances  of 
that  part  of  them,  who  are  distinguished  from  all  other 
people,  I  mean  the  Jews,  or  the  posterity  of  the  two  tribes ; 
for  those  of  the  ten  are,  according  to  the  predictions  of 
prophecy,  at  present  undistinguished,  though  hereafter 
to  be  restored  with  their  brethren  the  Jews  to  their  own 
land.     There  is  no  such  minute  and  circumstantial  proof, 


470  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

that  the  Italians  arc  the  descendants  of  the  ancient  Romans, 
or  :hc  French  of  the  Gauls. 

Jt  is  to  be  observed,  that  the  miraculous  and  super- 
natural parts  of  the  sacred  story  depend  on  the  verv  same 
authority  as  the  common,  and  accordingly  related  in  the 
same  manner;  and  me  whole  hangs  so  together,  and  rests 
on  the  same  foundation,  that  they  must  either  be  both 
true,  or  both  False.  But  no  one  ever  imagined  the  latter 
to  be  the  c.  - 

The  simplicity  of  the  Scripture  accounts  of  the  most 
striking  and  amazing  events  any  where  related,  their  being 
described  in  the  same  artless  and  unaffected  manner  as 
the  common  occurrences  of  history,  is  at  least  a  very 
strong  presumption,  that  the  relators  had  no  design  of  any 
kind,  but  to  give  a  true  representation  of  facts.  Had  Mo- 
ses, the  most  ancient  of  historians,  had  any  design  to  im- 
pose upon  mankind  ;  could  he,  in  his  account  of  the  cre- 
ation, the  flood,  the  destruction  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah 
by  lire,  from  heaven,  of  the  escape  of  the  Israelitish  peo- 
ple from  Egyptian  tyranny,  and  their  passage  through 
the  wilderness  under  his  own  conduct  (a  retreat  more 
remarkable  than  that  of  the  ten  thousand  under  Xenophon, 
which  makes  such  a  figure  in  history,  could  the  relator 
of  these  amazing  events  have  avoided  expatiating  and  flour- 
ishing upon  such  astonishing  scenes,  had  they  been  mere 
invention  f  Would  the  fabulous  writer  of  a  set  of  adven- 
tures, of  which  himself  was  the  fictitious  hero,  have  spoke 
of  himself  with  the  mock  sty  which  appears  in  the  Mosaic 
history  ?  Would  he  have  represented  himself  as  capable 
of  timidity,  diffidence,  or  passion  ?  Would  he  have  im- 
mortalized his  own  weaknesses  ?  Had  the  inventor  of  the 
scripture  account  of  Abraham,  and  his  posterity,  intended 
his  fictitious  history  as  an  encomium  upon  that  people, 
as  Virgil  did  his  A\ncid  on  his  countrymen,  would  he 
have  iv presented  thtm  as  perverse,  disobedient  people,  so 
often  under  the  displeasure  of  their  God ;  condemned  to 
wander  forty  years,  and  perish  at  last  to  the  number  of 
many  thousands,  in  the  wilderness,  to  the  seeming  dispar- 
agement of  the  wisdom  of  their  leader  ;  ever  deviating  into 
the  worship  of  idols,  contrary  to  what  might  have  been 
expected  from  the  numerous  miracles  wrought  in  their 
favour  by  the  true  God,  a  circumstance  very  improper 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  471 

to  be  dwelt  on,  as  being  likely  to  bring  the  truth  of  those 
miracles  into  question  with  superficial  readers  ? 

Would  the  inventors  of  the  New  Testament  History, 
supposing  it  a  fiction,  have  given  an  account  of  such  a 
scries  of  miracles  in  the  cool  and  unaffected  manner  they 
do,  had  they  not  been  genuine  ?  Could  they  have  avoid- 
ed some  flights  of  fancy  in  describing  such  wonders,  as 
the  feeding  of  thousands  with  almost  nothing  ;  the  curing 
of  diseases,  calming  of  tempests,  driving  evil  spirits  irom 
their  holds  and  calling  the  dead  out  of  their  graves,  with 
a  word?  Could  they  have  given  an  account  of  the  bar- 
barities inflicted  on  the  most  innocent  and  amiable  of  all 
characters,  without  working  up  their  narration  to  the  pitch 
of  a  tragedy  ? 

Must  not  a  man  be  out  of  his  wits  before  he  could  think 
of  writing  a  set  of  grave  directions  about  the  conduct  of 
miraculous  and  super-natural  gifts,  as  of  speaking  foreign 
languages  which  the  speakers  had  never  learned  ;  for  tell- 
ing future  events,  and  the  like  ;  must  not  a  man  be  dis- 
tracted, who  in  our  times,  when  no  such  miraculous  gifts 
subsist,  should  write  of  them  as  common  and  unques- 
tionable ?  This  the  Apostle  Paul,  one  of  the  most  judi- 
cious writers  of  antiquity,  sacred  or  profane,  does  in  si 
variety  of  places  ;  mentioning  them  incidentally  and  with- 
out going  out  of  his  way  to  prove  the  existence  of  them, 
and  even  depreciating  them  in  comparison  with  moral 
virtues.  What  is  to  be  concluded  from  hence,  but  that 
those  miraculous  gifts  were  at  that  time  as  notorious,  and 
common,  as  perhaps  the  knowledge  of  mathematics,  or 
any  other  science,  is  now  among  us  ? 

Miracles  being  a  very  important  part  of  the  evidence 
for  Revelation,  it  is  proper  to  consider  a  little  that  subject. 
And  first,  one  would  wonder,  that  ever  it  should  have  oc- 
curred to  any  person,  that  the  proof  from  miracles  is  a 
weak  or  suspicious  one,  supposing  the  miracles  to  be  really 
such,  and  nothing  inconsistent  in  the  doctrine  they  are 
brought  in  proof  of.  For  nothing  seems  more  reasonable 
to  expect,  than  that,  if  the  Author  of  Nature  should 
choose  to  be  likewise  Author  of  Revelation,  he  should 
show  his  concern  in  the  establishment  or  promulgation  of 
such  Revelation,  by  exering  that  power  over  nature, 
which  we  know  he  is  possessed  of,  and  for  which  we  be- 


472  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

licvc  and  adore  him,  as  the  Author  of  Nature.  Can  any 
thing  be  more  reasonable  to  expect  than  that  He,  who  first 
breathed  into  man  the  breath  of  life,  should,  in  order  to 
assure  mankind,  that  a  particular  message  comes  from 
Him,  give  power  to  those  he  employs  in  carrying  such 
message,  to  restore  life  to  the  dead;  or  than  that  He,  who 
made  the  elements  of  the  natural  world,  should  authenti- 
cate bis  revealed  laws  by  giving  to  those,  whom  he  em- 
ploys in  promulgating  them,  a  power  over  nature,  a  com- 
maud  of  the  elements  of  air  and  water;  so  that  winds  may 
cease  to  rage,  and  waves  to  roll  at  their  word  ?  There  is 
indeed  all  the  reason  in  the  world  to  believe,  that  those 
very  objectors  against  the  propriety  of  miracles,  as  a  proof 
of  a  Revelation  coming  from  God,  would  have  found  fault 
with  Christianity,  had  there  been  no  account  of  miracles 
in  scripture,  as  deficient  in  one  very  strong  and  convinc- 
ing evidence  of  a  Divine  original. 

The  proper  definition  of  such  a  miracle  as  may  be 
supposed  to  be  worked  by  Divine  Authority  for  proof 
of  a  Revelation  from  God,  is,  An  immediate  and  ex- 
traordinary effect  of  power  supeiior  to  all  human;  ex- 
hibited in  presence  of  a  competent  number  of  credible 
witnesses,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  be  subject  to  their 
deliberate  examination  expressly  declared  to  be  intend- 
ed for  establishing  a  doctrine  in  itself  reasonable,  and 
useful  for  the  improvement  of  mankind  in  virtue. 

First,  a  proper  miracle,  in  the  theological  sense,  must 
be  an  immediate  and  extraordinary  effect  of  power,  exhi- 
bited expressly  for  the  purpose.  For  the  application  of 
any  of  the  constant  and  regular  powers  or  properties  of 
natural  bodies,  in  however  artful,  or  to  common  people 
inconceivable,  a  manner,  is  no  miracle;  else  all  the  arts, 
especially  chemistry,  might  be  said  to  be  systems  of  mir- 
acles. The  pretended  miracle  of  the  liquefaction  of  the 
blood  of  Saint  Januctrius,  with  which  the  priests  in  Popish 
countries  yearly  delude  the  ignorant  people,  is  no  more 
than  the  natural  effect  of  a  certain  liquor  dropped  upon  a 
mass  of  a  particular  gummy,  or  resinous  substance, 
which  dissolves  in  a  manner  as  little  miraculous,  as  that  of 
a  lump  of  sugar,  upon  which  water  is  dropped.  But  to 
proceed.  The  miraculous  work  performed  must  be  the 
effect  of  a  power  superior  to  all  human.     It  is  not  neces- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  473 

sary  that  it  be  superior  to  angelic  power.  Because  our 
best  notions  of  the  Divine  economy  lend  us  to  believe  that 
spirituai  beings  are  the  instruments  of  God  for  the  advan- 
tage of  mankind.  So  that  while  we  believe  this,  to  ques- 
tion a  miracle  performed  by  a  good  angel,  would  be  insult- 
ing Heaven  itself.  And  we  may  reasonably  conclude 
from  the  tendency  of  the  doctrin-  or  laws  to  be  establish- 
ed, whether  the  miracle  is  wrought  by  a  good  or  evil  being, 
according  to  our  Saviour's  reasoning,  Matth.  xii.  25* 
A  miracle  performed  in  confirmation  of  a  doctrine  tending 
to  promote  and  establish  virtue  in  the  world,  and  to  defeat 
the  designs  which  evil  beings  may  have  against  mankind, 
may  reasonably  be  concluded  to  be  wrought  by  the  power, 
not  of  a  fiend,  but  a  good  spirit,  and  contrariwise.  For 
it  is  reasonable  to  expect  a  being  to  exert  his  power  for 
the  advancement  of  what  is  agreeable  to  his  own  character, 
and  not  for  the  contrary  purpose. 

Some  miracles  may  be  conceived  not  to  be  clearly,  and 
indiiputably,  above  all  human  power  ;  and  yet  to  be  gen- 
tame  mincles.  •  Some  of  the  works  of  Moses  were  such, 
that  the  Egyptian  artists  could  imitate  them  in  some  man- 
ner, delusive  indeed,  and  defective;  but  which  rendered 
it  at  least  disputable  whe  her  they  were  wholly  above  human 
pover,  or  not.  Nor  is  it  necessary,  that  every  Divine 
mission  be  so  authenticated  as  to  put  its  genuineness  be- 
yond all  possible  question.  It  is  enough,  if,  upon  the 
whole,  there  be  a  considerable  overbalance  of  credibility. 
For,  after  all,  direct  Revelations  of  all  kinds,  are  ever  to 
be  considered  as  exuberances  of  Divine  Goodness;  as 
advantages  beyond  what  rational  agents,  in  most  cases,  have 
any  ground  to  expect :  and  are  therefore  by  no  means  to 
be  thought  deficient,  if  they  want  this  or  that  evidence,  and 
be  not  attended  with  all  the  circumstances  of  conviction 
which  our  fantastical  imaginations  could  invent.  The  least 
and  lowest  degree  of  supernatural  assistance  is  more  than 
we  had  any  reason  to  expect^  or  pretence  to  demand. 
And  had  we  never  been  blest  with  any  clear  and  exten- 
sive Revelation,  we  should  have  been  altogether  without 
excuse  in  acting  a  wicked  part,  and  stifling  the  light  of 
natural  conscience. 

Others  of  the  scripture  miracles,  and  those  by  far  the 
most  considerable  part,  are  such  as  to  be  clearly  and  un- 

3  O 


-A74  OF  RFVEALHD  RELIGION'. 

questionably  above  all  human  power.  Of  this  sort  arc  the 
dividing  of  the  Red  Sea,  the  curinginveterate  diseases  with 
a  word,  and  raising  the  dead. 

A  miracle  ought  (in  order  to  its  being  received  by  those 
who  were  not  eye-witnesses)  to  have  been  wrought  in  the 
presence  of  such  a  number  of  credible  witnesses,  as  to  ren- 
der it  unlikely  that  there  should  have  been  any  delusion. 
Though  it  may  be  possible,  that  the  senses  of  one  or  two 
persons  may  be  deceived,  it  is,  not  to  be  supposed,  that 
those  of  any  number  should.  And  the  greater  the  num- 
ber of  the  witnesses  is  (supposing  them  credible)  the  prob- 
ability of  their  being  all  at  the  same  time  under  a  delusion 
becomes  the  less,  till  it  comes  to  be  wholly  incredible  and 
inconceivable.  And  then  their  testimony  becomes  un- 
questionable. This  necessary  condition  effectually  ex- 
cludes such  pretended  miracles  as  those  of  Mahomet's 
vision,  which  passed  wholly  without  witness.  For  our 
S  viour's  reasoning  is  undeniably  just;  if  a  man  bear 
record  of  himself,  his  record  is  not  true  ;  that  is,  the  mere 
assertion  of  a  person,  who,  for  any  thing  that  appears,  may 
be  interested  to  deceive,  is  not  a  sufficient  ground  of  cred- 
it. On  this  account  also  that  most  monstrous  insult 
upon  all  the  senses  and  faculties  of  mankind,  Transub- 
stantiation,  is  effectually  cut  off  from  all  pretensions  to  the 
character  of  a  miracle.  For  the  wafer  is  so  far  from  having 
been  ever  turned  into  a  whole  Christ  before  any  credible 
witness  or  witnesses,  that  every  person,  before  whom  it  has 
been  attempted  or  pretended  to  be  done,  has  had,  or  might 
have  had,  the  assurances  of  both  sense  and  understanding, 
that  it  remained  still  as  much  wafer  as  ever. 

The  witnesses  of  a  ^miracle  must  be  credible.  Thev 
must  be  under  no  visible  temptation  to  deceive  ;  and  they 
must  be  persons  of  such  understanding  as  to  be  equal  to 
the  examination  of  the  pretended  miracle.  The  pretended 
miracles  of  the  Papists  may  on  ven  just  grounds  be  sus- 
pected ;  as  we  know  w hat  immense  profits  that  worldly 
church  gets  by  deluding  the  people.  The  workers  of  the 
scripture-miracles  were  under  no  temptation  to  bribe  wit- 
nesses, but  quite  to  the  contrary.  For  they  all  lost,  and 
none  of  them  gained  any  thing  secular  by  their  works. 
Moses  forsook  the  court  of  Pharaoh,  to  wander  mam-  years 
in  the  wilderness  and  die  there.     The  prophets  suffered 


OF  REVEALED  UELICxION.  475 

persecution  and  death  for  their  plainness  in  reproving  the 
fashionable  vices  of  their  times.  The  blessed  Saviour  of 
the  world,  and  his  apostles,  and  the  first  proselytes  to  chris- 
tianitv,  exposed  themselves  to  every  kind  of  affliction  and 
distress,  and  to  violent  and  infamous  deaths.  So  that  they 
cannot,  with  any  shadow  of  reason,  be  suspected  of  having 
bribed  witnesses  to  testify  to  their  miracles  ;  nor  indeed 
had  they  any  secular  advantage  to  offer  in  order  to  gain 
proselytes. 

The  witnesses  of  a  supposed  miracle  must,  in  order  to 
its  credibility,  be  supposed  persons  of  such  understanding, 
as  to  be  equal  to  the  examination  of  the  fact.  Now  the 
scripture  miracles  were  performed  before  such  numbers, 
that,  according  to  the  common  course  of  human  capacities, 
they  must  have  been  seen  and  examined  by  many  persons, 
not  only  of  sufficient  understanding  for  inquiring  into  a 
simple  fact,  but  of  more  shrewdness  and  sagacity  than  or- 
dinary. Nor  was  there  any  superior  capacity  necessary  to 
determine  whether  the  Red  Sea  was  really  miraculously 
divided,  when  the  thousands  of  Israel  passed  through  it 
in  full  march,  and  saw  the  waters  as  a  wall  on  their  right 
hand,  and  on  their  left.  Nor  was  there  any  occasion  for 
great  sagacity  to  convince  those  who  saw  some  hundreds 
of  diseased  people  healed  with  a  word,  that  real  miracles 
were  wrought.  Nor  was  there  any  subtlety  of  discern- 
ment necessary  to  convince  the  disciples  of  Christ,  v  ho 
had  conversed  with  him  for  several  years,  who  heard  him 
speak  as  never  man  spoke,  that  he  who  after  his  death  ap- 
peared to  several  hundreds  together,  and  often  conversed 
intimately  with  the  eleven,  for  six  weeks,  was  the  same 
person,  their  well  known  Lord  and  Master,  whom  they 
saw  crucified  on  mount  Calvarij. 

It  is  said  in  the  above  definition  of  a  proper  miracle, 
that,  in  order  to  credibility,  it  is  necessary,  that  the  effect 
be  such  as  to  be  subject  to  the  full  examination  of  the 
spectators.  There  are  very  few  of  the  scripture-miracles 
that  were  not  of  too  substantial  and  permanent  a  nature,  to 
be  in  any  manner  imitated  by  the  prcestigitf,  or  tricks  of 
impostors.  A  sudden  appearance,  for  a  short  time,  of 
any  strange  and  unaccountable  kind,  might  be  questioned. 
But  a  body  diseased  for  many  years,  cured  with  a  word,  a 
withered  limb  restored  in  a  moment,  a  distracted  brain 


476  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

instantly  redressed,  a  daemon  authoritatively  dispossessed,  a 
man  four  days  buried,  recalled  to  life  ;  these  are  i  fleets  of 
power  too  substantial  to  be  mistaken  ;  and  too  lasting  to 
be  suspected  of  having  passed  through  a  superficial  exam- 
ination. 

Lastly,  it  is  said  in  the  above  definition  of  a  proper  and 
credible  miracle,  that  it  must  be  declared  by  the  worker 
of  it  to  be  wrought  expressly  in  confirmation  of  some 
particular  doctrine,  which  doctrine  must  be  such  as  to 
commend  itself  to  the  unprejudiced  reason  of  mankind, 
and  to  bear  the  marks  of  a  revelation  worthy  of  God,  and 
useful  for  men.  A  miracle,  or  wonderful  effect,  connect- 
ed with  no  particular  doctrine,  is  tO  be  called  a  natural 
or  artificial  phenomenon,  or  a  prodigy  ;  not  a  miracle  in  a 
theoligicaJ  sense,  which  last  alone  is  what  we  are  at  pres- 
ent concerned  with. 

No  miracle  whatever,  nor  any  number  of  miracles, 
would  be  sufficient  to  prove  t\\  ice  two  to  be  five.  Because 
we  are  more  clearly  and  undoubtedly  certain  of  the  pro- 
portions of  numbers,  than  of  any  thing  supernatural.  And 
all  miracles  are  supernatural.  Ai  el  it  would  be  absurd  to 
imagine  that  the  infinitely  wise  Author  of  reason  should 
expect  us  to  question  the  certain  information  of  our  rea- 
son upon  evidence  less  certain. 

Again,  if  miracles  are  pretended  to  be  wrought  in 
prool  of  a  doctrine  which  leads  to  any  vicious  or  impious 
practice,  as  we  may,  by  a  proper  examination,  and  due 
use  of  our  faculties  be  more  certain,  that  such  a  doctrine 
cannot  be  from  God,  than  we  can  be,  that  a  pretended 
miracle,  in  support  of  it,  is  from  him;  it  is  plain  we  arc 
to  reject  both  the  doctrine  and  pretended  miracle,  as  in- 
sufficient against  the  clear  and  unquestionable  dictates 
of  reason.  But  if  mir.  cles,  answering  in  every  part  the 
above  definition,  are  wrought  before  credible  witnesses, 
in  t  xpress  attestation  of  a  doctrine,  though  not  discover- 
able by  reason,  yet  not  contradictory  to  it,  and  tending  to 
the  advancement  of  virtue  and  happiness,  we  ought  in 
any  reason  to  conclude  such  miracles,  when  properly  at- 
tested, to  have  been  performed  by  the  power  of  God,  or 
of  some  being  authorised  by  him  ;  and  may  judge  our- 
selves safe  in  receiving  them  as  such  ;  because  we  cannot 
suppose  that  God  would  leave  his  creatures  in  a  state  ob- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  477 

noxious  to  remediless  delusion  ;  nay,  we  cannot  but  thi  ;k 
it  criminal  to  neglect,  or  oppose,  miracles  in  such  a 
manner  attested,  or  the  doctrine  intended  10  be  established 
b)  them. 

It  has  been  objected  apaiist  the  account,  we  have  in 
scripture,  of  innumerable  'miracles  performed  b)  Moses, 
and  the  prophets,  Christy  and  his  apostles  ;  that  it  is  not 
likelv,  they  should  be  true,  because  we  have  none  such 
in  our  times.  That,  as  we  have  no  experience  of  miracles, 
we  have  no  reason  to  believe  that  ever  there  were  any 
performed. 

Supposing  it  were  strictly  true,  that  we  have  no  experi- 
ence, or  ocular  conviction,  of  the  possibility  of  miracles, 
which  is  by  no  means  to  be  taken  for  granted  ;  those  who 
urge  this  objection,  would  do  well  to  consider,  before  they 
embark  their  unbelief  upon  it,  how  far  it  will  earn  them, 
If,  because  we  see  no  miracles  now,  we  may  salely  argue 
that  there  never  were  any,  it  will  be  as  good  sense  to  say, 
because  we  now  see  an  earth,  a  sun,  moon,  and  stars ; 
there  never  was  a  time,  when  they  were  not  ;  there  never 
was  a  time  when  the  Divine  wisdom  governed  his  natural, 
or  moral  system  otherwise  than  he  does  nOvy  ;  there  are  no 
different  states  of  things,  nor  any  different  exigencies  in 
consequence  of  those  differences  ;  it  is  absurd  to  conceive 
of  any  change  in  any  one  particular,  or  in  the  general  (Econ- 
omy of  the  universe. 

The  account  we  have  in  the  New  Testament,  of  the 
darnoniacs  miraculously  cured  by  our  Saviour,  has,  par- 
ticularly, been  thought  to  pinch  so  hard,  that  some  have, 
in  order  to  get  rid  of  the  difficulty,  attempted,  (in  mv  hum- 
ble opinion,  altogether  unwarrantably)  to  explain  away  the 
whole  doctrine  of  possession  by  spirits.  How  comes  it, 
say  the  objectors,  that  we  read  of  such  numbers  ofpersons 
in  Christ's  thne  possessed  with  daemons;  while  we  have 
no  instances  of  any  such  in  our  days  ?  To  this,  some  gen- 
tlemen, whose  abilities  I  should  be  proud  to  equal,  and  of 
whose  sincere  belief  of  Christianity  I  have  no  more  doubt 
than  of  my  own,  have  given  an  answer,  which  I  cannot 
help  thinking  extremely  hurtful  to  the  cause.  "  The  Doe- 
moniacs,"  say  those  gentlemen,  "  were  no  more  than  mad 
people,  who  were  not  then,  nor  are  now,  possessed  with 
spirits,  any  more  than  other  diseased  persons.    Their  being 


ITS  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

spoken  of  as  possessed,  was  no  other  than  a  common  way 
of  ex  pressing  their  disease  or  distress  ;  and  the  dispossess- 
ing m,  was  only  the  cure  ;  which  was  still  miraculous1' 
But,  if  any  man  can  reconcile  this  notion  with  the  accounts 
we  have  from  the  Evangelists,  lie  must  have  a  key,  which, 
I  own,  I  am  not  master  of.     That  a  set  of  grave  historians, 
sacred  historians,  should  fill   up  their  narration  with  ac- 
counts of  what  was   said  by  such  a  number  of  madmen  ; 
that  those  madmen  should  universally  speak  to  better  pur- 
pose, than  the  bulk  of  those  who  were  in  their  senses  ;  that 
they  should  at  once,  the  first  moment  they  cast  their  eS  es 
on  our  Saviour,  know  him  to  be  the   Christ,  while  some 
even  of  his  own  disciples  hardly  knew  what  to  think  of  him  ; 
that  our  Saviour  himself  should  enumerate  his  casting  out 
evil  spirits,   besides  curing  diseases,  as  a  miracle  erifirteTy 
separate,  and  of  its  own  kind,  and  mention  his  conquest 
over  Satan  and  his  wicked  spirits,  as  a  mark  of  his  being 
the  true  Messiah  ;  that  he  should  allow  his  disciples    to 
continue  in  a  mistake  with  respect  to  a  point  of  such  con- 
sequence ;  that  lie  should  advise  them  to  rejoice  more  in 
the  thought  of  their  names  being  written  in  heaven,  than 
in  their  having  received  power  over  spirits,  without  telling 
them  at  the  same  time,  that  they  were  altogether  in  a  mis- 
take about  their  having  received  any  such  power  ;  that 
we  should  be  grave!}  told  that  the  madness  (not  the  spirits) 
which  uossessed  the  men  in  tombs,  intrcated  our  Saviour 
to  senel  it  into  the  herd  of  swine  ;  that  the   madness  (not 
the  spirit)  should  so  often  intreat  and  adjure  him  not  to 
send  it  to  the  place  of  torment  before  the  time,  that  is, 
probably,  before  the  last  judgment,  or  perhaps  an  earlier 
period  spoken  of  in  the  Apocalypse,  that  all  these  solemn 
accounts  should  be  given  in  such  a  history,  and  nothing  to 
show  them   to  be  figurative,  nor,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  any 
possibility  of  understanding  them  otherwise  than  literally  ; 
seems  wholly   unaccountable.     Nor  can  I  help  thinking 
that  the  solution   is  incomparably  harder  to  grapple  with 
than  the  difficulty.     I  deny  not,  that  there  are  passages  in 
the  gospels,  where  a  disease   is  in  one  place  spoken  of  as 
an  infliction  of  an  evil  spirit,  and  in  another  as  a  mere  dis- 
ease.    But  this  dots  not  at  all  affect  the  point  in  dispute  ; 
because  the  question  is  not,  whether  the  f'cemoniacs  spoken 
of  in  the  gospels  were  not  persons  labouring  under  a  bod- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  479 

ily  complaint  besides  the  possession  by  evil  spirits;  but, 
whether  the  people  said  to  be  possessed,  were  at  all  pos- 
sessed, or  not.  If  a  person,  whose  brain  was  distempered, 
was  likewise  possessed  with  an  evil  spirit,  he  might  with 
sufficient  propriety  be  spoke  of  in  one  place  as  a  lunatic, 
and  in  another  as  a  dasmoninc. 

I  should  humbly  judge  it  a  much  more  easy  and  natural 
way  of  getting  over  this  difficulty,  to  proceed  upon  our 
Saviour's  answer  to  his  disciples  concerning  the  man  born 
blind.  "  Neither  did  this  man  sin,"  says  he,  (in  any  ex- 
traordinary manner)  nor  his  parents ;  but  that  the  works 
of  God  might  be  made  manifest  in  him."  If  the  whole 
human  species  are  offenders,  and  at  all  times  deserving  of 
punishment,  where  is  the  difficulty  of  conceiving,  that  it 
might  be  suitable  to  the  Divine  scheme  of  government, 
that  at  the  time  of  our  Saviour's  appearance,  or  any  other 
period,  a  greater  variety  of  punishments  might  be  suffered 
to  fail  upon  a  guilty  race  of  beings,  and  afterwards,  through 
the  Divine  mercy,  their  sufferings  might  be  abated.  Par- 
ticularly, is  there  not  even  a  propriety  in  God's  giving  to 
Satan,  and  his  angels,  the  ancient  and  inveterate  opposers 
of  the  Messiah,  and  his  kingdom,  a  short  triumph  over 
mankind,  in  order  to  render  the  Messiah's  victory  over 
him  more  conspicuous  and  more  glorious.  This  I  say  on 
the  supposition,  that  possession  by  evil  spirits  was  alto- 
gether peculiar  to  those  ancient  times  ;  and  that  there  is 
at  present  absolutely  no  such  thing  in  any  country  in  the 
world.  But,  before  any  person  can  positively  affirm,  that 
there  is  no  such  thing  in  our  times  as  possession  by  spirits, 
he  must  be  sure  of  his  knowing  perfectly  the  natures  and 
po  vers  of  spirits,  and  be  able  to  show  the  absolute  impos- 
sibility of  a  spirit's  having  communication  with  em- 
bodied minds  ;  and  must  be  capable  of  showing,  that  all 
the  symptoms  and  appearances  in  diseases,  in  madness, 
and  in  dreams,  are  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  notion  of 
spirits  having  any  concern  with  our  species.  Now  to  es- 
tablish this  negative  will  be  so  far  from  being  easy  to  do, 
that,  on  the  contrary,  universal  opinion,  as  well  as  prob- 
ability, and  the  whole  current  of  revelation,  are  on  the 
opposite  side.  Who  can  say  that  it  is  absurd  to  im. 
such  a  state  of  the  human  frame,  especially  of  trie  brain, 
as  mav  give  spiritual  agents  an  opportunity  of  making 


480  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

impressions  upon  the  mind?  Who  can  say,  that  sleep 
tnay  noi  lav  the  mind  open  to  the  impressions  of  foreign 
beings;  and  that  waking  again  may  not,  by  some  laws 
of  Nature  unknown  to  us,  exclude  their  communications? 
Who  can  say,  that  part  (I  do  not  say  all)  of  the  symp- 
toms m  phrenetic,  epileptic,  lunatic,  and  melancholic 
cases,  especially  in  the  more  violent  paroxysms,  may 
not  be  owing  to  the  agency  of  spirits'?  Were  this  to 
be  allowed,  it  would  not  at  all  vacate  the  use  of  medi- 
cines or  dieting.  For  if  the  access  of  spirits  to  our  minds 
depends  upon  die  slate  of  our  bodies,  which  it  is  no  way 
absurd  to  suppose,  it  is  evident,  an  alteration  in  the  state 
of  the  bod\  ma)  prevent  their  access  to  our  minds,  and 
deprive  them  ol  all  power  over  us  ;  and  in  that  light  med- 
icines and  regimen  may  be  effectual  even  against  spirits, 
so  far  as  they  nvy  be  concerned,  by  being  so  against  the 
natural  disorder  of  the  frame  occasioned  merely  by  the 
disease.  So  that  there  may,  for  any  thing  we  know  to 
the  contrary,  be  dreams,  in  which  foreign  agents  mav  be 
concerned,  and  there  may  be  others  occasioned  by  mere 
fumes  of  indigestion,  as  the  poet  speaks.  There  may 
be  epileptics  and  maniacs,  who  are  so  from  mere  obstruc- 
tions and  disorders  in  the  brain  and  nerves  ;  and  there 
may  at  this  day  be  others  attacked  by  those  maladies, 
whose  distress  may  be  heightened  by  wicked  spirits. 
The  amazing  strength  of  even  women  and  youths,  in 
some  of  their  violent  fits,  seems  to  countenance  a  suspi- 
cion, tnut  something  acts  in  them,  separate  from  their  own 
natural  force,  and  which  is  hardly  to  be  accounted  for 
from  any  extraordinary  flow  of  animal  spirits.  And  why 
in  scripture  we  should  have  so  many  accounts  of  revela- 
tions communicated  in  dreams  :  from  whence  probably 
the  heathens,  ever  since  Homer,  have  had  the  same  no- 
tion ;  seems  unaccountable  upon  any  other  footing,  than 
that  of  supposing  some  natural  mechanical  connexion 
between  a  particular  state  of  the  bodily  frame,  and  com- 
munication from  separate  spirits.  The  behaviour  of  the 
prophet  in  the  Old  Testament,  who  calls  for  an  instrument 
of  music,  when  he  waits  for  an  inspiration,  does  likewise 
countenance  the  same  notion;  as  if  the  natural  effect  of 
melody  was  to  open  the  way  to  the  mind  in  a  mechanical 
manner,  in  order  to  the  more  foil  admission  of  the  super- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  481 

natural  communications.  To  conclude  what  I  would  say 
on  the  difficulty  of  the  dasmoniacs  in  the  gospel- history, 
I  do  not  pretend  to  decide  which  is  the  true  solution.  All 
1  contend  for  is,  That  to  explain  away  the  reality  of  the 
presence  o£  spirits,  is,  in  my  opinion,  unwarrantable  and 
d  ulcerous,  and  removing  a  less  difficulty  to  put  a  greater 
in  its  place. 

To  return  to  the  general  objection  I  was  upon  before 
this  digression,  which  was,  That   we   have   no  reason  to 
believe  there  ever  were  any  miracles,  because  we  have  no 
experience  of  any  in  our  times ;  I  have  to  say  farther, 
that  the  objection  is  not  founded  upon  truth ;  at  least  not 
upon  an  unquestionable  truth*   For  many  persons  of  good 
judgment  have  declared  it  to  be  their  opinion,  that  among 
the  innumerable  fictitious  accounts  of  supernatural  appear- 
ances and  prodigies,  some,  even  in  these  later  ages,  are 
in  such  a  manner  authenticated,  that  to  deny  them  a  man 
must  deny  every  information  he  can  receive  by  any  means 
whatever,  besides  his  own  immediate  senses,  which  does 
not  seem  highly  rational.     Besides,  are   not  the  comple- 
tions of  a  multitude  of  prophecies,  which  we  have  at  this 
dav  extant  before  our  eyes,  as  the  predicted  lasting  ruin- 
ous state   of  Babylon  and    Tyre,  the  total  subjection  to 
the  latest  ages,  of  the  once  illustrious  kingdom  of  Egypt, 
the  remaining  marks  of  the  general  deluge ;  the  unequal- 
led and  unaccountable  condition  of  the  Jews  for  so  long  a 
period  of  time  ;  the  establishment  and  continuance  to  the 
end  of  the  world  of  the  christian  religion, — are  not  these 
standing  miracles  conspicuous  in  our  time  ?  But  of  this 
more  elsewhere.     Upon   the  whole,  it  is  evident,  that  if 
the  objection  was  found  d  on  truth,  it  could  not  be  valid, 
because  different  periods  may  require  different  measures 
of  government ;  and  to  say  that  there  could  never  have 
been  any  miracles,  because  there  are  none  now  (were  it 
true  that  there  are  no  effects  of  miraculous  interposition 
remaining  in  oar  times)  would  be  as  absurd  as  to  say, 
that  the  axis  of  the  earth  must  point  exactly  the  same  way 
it  did  two  thousand  years  ago ;   whereas  the  observations 
of  ancient  astronomers  have  put  the  doctrine  of  its  con- 
tinual change  of  direction,  and  the  procession  of  the  equi- 
noxes, out  of  all  possible  doubt.     But  if  the  objection  is 

not  founded  upon  truth,  it  must  of  course  fallto  the  grounds 

3  P 


482  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION, 

Prophecy  is  a  miraculous  history,  or  account  of  events 
before  they  happen.  This  being  unquestionably  above 
the  reach  of  human  capacity,  it  is  a  proper  and  convinc- 
ing evidence,  that  the  revelation  in  which  it  is  given  is  not 
a  human  production.  To  pretend  to  determine  the  foun- 
da  ion,  or  the  modus,  of  the  prescience  of  the  actions  of 
free  agents,  may  be  wholly  out  of  our  reach  in  the  present 
state.  But  we  can  form  some  conception  of  its  being  pos- 
sible, in  some  such  manner  as  the  following,  though  it 
may  not  perhaps  be  safe  to  affirm,  that  the  following  is  a 
true  account  of  it. 

Do  we  not  commonly  see  instances  of  very  sound 
judgments  passed  by  wise  men  on  the  future  conduct  of 
others  ?  May  we  not  suppose,  that  angels,  or  other  beings 
of  superior  reach,  may  be  capable,  from  their  more  exact 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  to  pass  a  much  more  certain 
judgment  of  the  future  behaviour  of  our  species  ?  And 
is  there  any  thing  less  to  be  expected,  than  that  He  who 
made  us,  who  perfectly  knows  our  frame,  who  immedi-. 
ately  perceives  the  most  secret  motions  of  our  mind,  and 
likewise  foresees  with  the  utmost  exactness,  and  without 
a  possibility  of  being  deceived,  the  whole  proceeding  and 
concurrent  circumstances  in  which  any  of  his  creatures 
can  at  any  future  time  be  engaged  (as  it  is  evident,  that 
all  things  are  the  effect  of  his  directing  providence,  except 
the  actions  of  free  creatures,  to  whom  he  has  given  lib- 
erty and  power  of  action  within  a  certain  sphere)  is  any 
thing  less  to  be  expected,  I  say,  than  that  our  infinitely 
wise  Creator  should  form  a  judgment,  suitable  to  his  wis- 
dom, of  the  future  conduct  of  his  creatures  ?  And  to  im- 
agine that  this  judgment  should  at  all  effect  the  future  be- 
haviour of  the  creature,  seems  as  groundless  as  to  conclude 
that  one  created  being's  judging  of  the  future  conduct  of 
another  should  actually  influence  and  over-rule  his  con- 
duct.    The   judgment  is,    by  the   supposition,   formed 
upon  the  character  of  the  person  judged  of,  not  the  cha- 
racter influenced  by  the  judgment.     There  are  some  pas- 
sages of  Scripture,  which  s<  em  to  lead  us  to  this  manner 
of  conception  of  this  difficult  point. 

When  David  (\  Sam.  xxii.  12.)  pursued  by  the  invet- 
< rate  hatred  of  king  Saul,  consulted  the  oracle,  whether, 
if  he  staid  in  the  city  of  Keilah,  the  people  of  that  city 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  485 

would  give  him  up  to  his  enemy  ;  the  answer  he  received 
was,  That  they  would.  It  is  plain  in  this  case,  that  the 
Divine  prescience  of  the  conduct  of  that  people,  in  the  event 
of  David's  trusting  himself  into  their  hands,  did  not  arise 
from  God's^having  decreed  that  they  should  give  up  David: 
for  if  it  had  been  decreed,  it  must  have  come  to  pass. 
Nor  was  their  treachery  foreknown  because  it  was  future  : 
For  it  was  not  future,  having  been  disappointed,  and  never 
coming  to  be  executed.  Nor  could  it  be  eventually  pre- 
determined, that  in  case  of  David's  staying  in  the  city,  the 
people  should  give  him  up  into  the  hands  of  his  en^my. 
For  the  event  shows,  that  it  was  not  the  Divine  scheme 
that  he  should  fall  into  the  snare,  but  that  he  should  escape 
it.  There  seems  nothing  therefore  left  to  conclude,  but 
that  the  Divine  prescience  of  the  conduct  of  the  people  of 
Keilah  was  founded  in  a  thorough  and  perfect  insight  into 
the  treacherous  character  of  that  people,  and  perhaps  the 
knowledge  of  actual  designs  formed  by  them  to  betray 
David  into  the  hands  of  the  king. 

Again,  when  God  foretells  ( Gen,  xviii.  19.)  that  Abra- 
ham would  "  command  his  household  after  him,  and  they 
would  keep  the  way  of  the  Lord;"  he  plainly  shows  upon 
what  that  prescience  was  grounded,  in  saying,  "  I  know 
him,  that  he  will  command,"  &c.  That  is,  I  so  fully  know 
his  zeal  and  affection  for  the  true  God,  that  I  foresee  he 
will  set  up  and  support  my  worship  in  his  family,  and  en- 
join it  to  his  posterity,  in  opposition  to  the  idolatry  and  poly- 
theism which  prevails  among  the  heathen  around.        « 

In  the  same  manner,  in  the  New  Testament,  though 
the  apostle  Paid  foretells,  that  there  should  not  be  a  life 
lost  of  those  who  sailed  with  him,  notwithstanding  the 
severity  of  the  tempest ;  we  find  afterwards,  that  the  pre- 
diction depended  upon  the  sailors  staying  in  the  ship.  So 
that  probably  what  was  foreseen  was,  that  the  ship  and 
crew  might  be  saved  by  the  skill  of  the  sailors  ;  and  that, 
if  they  deserted  it,  it  must  perish. 

These,  and  other  passages,  which  might  be  quoted, 
seem  to  favour  the  preceding  attempt  to  solve  part  of  the 
difficulty  of  the  Divine  prescience  of  the  actions  of  free 
creatures-  But  it  must  still  be  confessed,  that  the  sub- 
ject is  involved  in  such  intricacies  as  we  shall  not  in  all 
probability  be  able  to  clear  up  in  the  present  state.     How- 


484  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

ever  it  be,  we  arc  nor  immediately  concerned  with  any 
thing  but  what  may  affect  our  doing  our  duty  :  And  that 
neither  prescience,  nor  any  thing  else,  does  any  way 
abridge  our  freedom  in  performing  that,  and  so  securing 
our  final  happiness,  we  need  not  use  any  reasoning  to  be 
convinced.  We  have  no  other  assurance  that  we  exist, 
than  feeling:  And  we  have  the  same  for  our  freedom. 
Every  man  feels,  that  in  all  his  actions,  whether  virtuous, 
vicious  or  indifferent,  he  is  naturally  free.  And  what  we 
feel  we  cannot  bring  ourselves  serious  to  doubt  if  we 
would,  though  we  may  cavil  at  any  thing. 

That  many  parts  of  Scripture  prophecy,  not  yet  accom- 
plished, ..re  obscure,  and  of  doubtful  signification  ;  so  that 
the  most  learned  interpreters  are  divided  in  their  senti- 
ments about  what  may  be  intended  by  them,  must  be  ac- 
knowledged. And  that  this  is  no  more  than  might  have 
been  expected,  will  appear  by  considering,  that  had  many 
future  events  been  too  clearly  predicted,  the  obstinacy  of 
men  might  have  rendered  miracles  necessary  upon  every 
occasion  to  bring  about  the  completion  of  them. 

With  all  the  pretended  obscurity  of  prophecy,  there  are 
still  enough  01  unquestionable  and  conspicuous  comple- 
tions to  show  that  the  predictions  of  scripture  were  given, 
not  by  chance,  nor  by  bold  conjecture,  nor  by  partial  infor- 
mations from  evil  spirits,  as  some  have  thought  was  the 
caseof  some  of  the  responses  of  the  heathen  oracles,  but  by 
One  who  saw  through  futurity  down  to  the  most  distant 
periods,  from  the  time  of  their  being  given  out ;  by  Him, 
Mho  holds  the  reins  qf  government  ifl  his  °wn  hand.  The 
feu-  following  examples  may  serve  as  a  proof  of  this. 

Moses,  in  his  account  of  the  deluge,  {Gen.  viii.  21,  22.) 
assures  mankind,  in  the  name  of  God,  that  there  should 
never  be  another  universal  flood  ;  but  that  the  four  sea- 
sons of  the  year,  and  the  revolutions  of  day  and  night, 
should  go  on  without  interruption  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
This  is  one  of  those  predictions  which  could  not  have 
been  written  since  the  event,  as  has  been  pretended,  in 
derogation  of  some  others:  the  period  taken  in  by  it  not 
being  yet  concluded.  And  considering  the  extraordinary 
wisdom  so  conspicuous  in  the  character  of  Moses,  it  does 
not  seem  conceivable,  that  he,  who  expected  to  have  the 
opinion  of  future  ages  as  an  inspired  person,  should  with- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  485 

out  Divine  Authority,  have  ventured  his  whole  character 
upon  such  an  affirmation  as  this,  which  he  could  have  let 
alone,  lest  the  event  should  have  detected  him  for  an  im- 
postor. For  how  could  he  know,  without  inspiration, 
what  change  in  nature  might  happen,  which  might  totally 
change  the  course  of  days,  nights,  and  seasons'?  How 
could  we  know  that  their  might  not  happen  some  su<  h  rev- 
olution in  his  own  times,  to  the  utter  ruin  of  his  character 
as  a  prophet!  Hon-  could  he  know  that  another  deluge 
might  not  come  according  to  the  order  of  Nature  ;  and  as 
he  had  published  the  account  of  the  preservation  of" Noah 
and  his  family  in  the  ark,  was  it  not  natural  to  expect,  that 
upon  the  least  appearance  of  such  another  judgment,  peo- 
ple would  set  about  making  arks  for  their  own  safety^ 
which  would  have  proved  the  total  degrading  of  his  char- 
acter as  a  prophet  and  a  lawgiver  ?  The  event  hitherto  has 
answered  the  prediction,  and,  in  all  probability,  future 
ages  will  fully  prove  it  to  have  been  e  iven  from  God. 

The  same  wise  lawgiver  of  the  Jexvs  founded  a  very 
important  part  of  that  constitution  in  a  manner  extremely 
injudicious  and  improvident,  if  we  suppose  him  not  to 
have  acted  upon  Divine  authority.  WKat  I  refer  to,  is 
his  confining  the  priesthooel,  which  he  deel  res  to  be  ever- 
lasting to  the  single  family  of  Aaron.  Had  he  not  done 
this  upon  Divine  authority,  he  must  have  run  an  obvious 
hazard  of  the  downfall  of  the  religious  polity  he  was  setting 
up  by  the  possible  failure  of  male  issue  in  Aaron's  family, 
who  had  only  two  sons,  Eleazar  and  Ithamar.  This  part 
of  the  Mosaic  constitution  may  therefore  be  considereel  as 
a  prediction,  that  in  a  course  of  several  thousand  years, 
there  shoulel  not  be  wanting  male  issue  proceeding  from 
one  singie  family,  at  that  time  consisting  only  of  two  per- 
sons. Hael  this  prediction  failed  ;  had  these  two  persons, 
or  their  posterity,  been  cut  off  by  natural  death,  or  by  an 
enemy,  the  whole  Jewish  economy  must  have  sunk  for 
wrant  of  a  priesthood,  and  all  the  prophecies  had  been  falsi- 
fied, or  had  never  been  given. 

In  the  book  of  Jeremiah,  chap.  i.  and  following,  it  is 
foretold,  that  Babylon,  the  greatest  city  and  seat  of  the 
greatest  empire  at  that  time  in  the  world,  should  not  only 
be  destroyed,  but  that  it  should  never  again  be  inhabited. 
Which  last  particular  no  man  of  prudence  or  judgment 


486  Q?  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

would  have  ventured  his  credit  as  a  prophet  upon,  when 
he  could  have  avoided  giving  any  such  prediction,  unless 
he  had  been,  by  Divine  inspiration,  assured  of  what  hi  af- 
firmed. For  nothing  could  well  be  imagined  more  im- 
probable, than  that  the  seat  of  the  empire  of  the  \\  orld 
should  be  destroyed  ;  and  still  more  unlikely  was  it,  that 
it  should  never  be  re- built.  But  the  event  shows  the  truth 
of  the  prophecy.  And  this  prediction  is  likewise  one  of 
those  of  which  it  cannot  be  pretended  that  it  was  written 
since  the  event. 

In  Ezek.  xxx.  13,  it  is  expressly  foretold,  that  there 
should  be  "  no  more  a  prince  of  the  land  of  Egypt."  No 
man  of  judgment  would  have  ventured,  without  authority, 
his  credit  upon  such  an  asservation,  as  he  could  have  been 
wholly  silent  on  the  head.  For  who  could  know,  with- 
out inspiration,  that  there  should  never  more  a  prince,  a 
native  of  Egypt,  sit  on  the  throne  of  that  kingdom  ?  The 
event  however  has  verified  the  prediction.  For  soon  after 
the  time  when  it  was  given,  Egypt  was  made  a  province 
of  the  Persian  empire,  and  has  been  governed  ever  since 
by  foreigners,  having  been,  since  the  fall  of  the  Persian 
monarchy,  subject  successively  to  the  Macedonians,  the 
Saracens,  the  Mamalukes,  and  the  Turks,  who  possess  it 
at  present.  This  is  one  of  those  prophecies  against  which 
it  cannot  be  objected,  that  it  is  possible  it  may  have  been 
written  since  the  event. 

In  the  xxvith  chap,  of  Ezekiel  it  is  foretold,  that  the 
great  and  powerful  city  of  Tyre,  at  that  time  the  general 
re  sort  of  traders,  and  mart  of  the  world,  should  be  utterly 
desolate,  so  as  to  be  a  place  for  the  spreading  of  nets,  and 
should  never  more  be  rebuilt.  This  prediction,  at  the  time 
it  was  given  so  utterly  improbable,  has  been  literally  fulfil- 
led, as  may  be  seen  in  MaundreW s  Voyage.  And  Dr. 
Pococke,  late  bishop  of  Ossory,  says,  in  his  travels  in  the 
east,  that  as  he  sailed  by  the  place  where  it  formerly  stood, 
he  saw  the  ruins  of  it  covered  with  fishing  nets. 

The  scriptures  of  both  Old  and  New  Testament  are  full 
of  predictions  of  the  dispersion  of  the  Jews  for  a  long  pe- 
riod of  time,  as  a  punishment  for  their  vices,  and  of  their 
being  at  last  restored  to  their  own  land  in  great  triumph 
and  happiness.  So  early  as  the  days  of  Moses,  whose  asra 
prophane  history  confirms  to  have  been  about  the  time 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  487 

we  place  it,  viz.  about  three  thousand  years  ago,  we  have 
predictions  of  the  ruin  which  was  to  come  upon  that  people 
in  case  of  their  disobedience  (and  which  did  come  accord- 
ingly) so  clear  and  explicit,  that  no  writer  of  our  time, 
with  the  help  of  history,  and  particularly  Josephus*  ac- 
count of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  ana  with  the  advan- 
tage of  knowing  the  present  unhappy  condition  of  that 
people  almost  in  all  the  countries  of  the  world  but  our  own, 
could  in  an  imitation  of  the  prophetic  style  described  their 
case  more  exactly.  In  the  xxviiith  chapter  of  Deuterono- 
my, Moses  threatens  their  disobedience  with  judgments 
and  plagues  of  every  kind  ;  particularly  that  they  should 
"  become  an  astonishment,  a  proverb,  and  a  by-word  in 
all  countries;"  that  "  an  enemy  should  come  upon  them 
as  swiftly  as  eagles,"  probably  alluding  to  their  conquest 
by  the  Romans  ;  that  they  should,  in  the  severity  of  the 
siege,  be  reduced  "  to  eat  their  very  children;"  that  they 
should  be  scattered  through  all  countries  of  the  world;" 
and  that  they  should  be  forced  "  to  serve  other  gods,"  as 
they  accordingly  are,  in  the  countries  where  the  inquisition 
is  established,  obliged  to  worship  the  host,  which  num- 
bers of  them  comply  with,  though  a  gross  violation  of  the 
second  commandment,  to  avoid  falling  into  the  hands  of 
that  merciless  court ;  and  that  among  the  nations  where 
they  should  be  scattered  they  should  "  have  no  ease  nor 
rest,"  but  a  trembling  heart,"  and  "  failing  of  eyes," 
and  "  sorrow,"  and  "  continual  fear  for  their  lives,"  with 
many  other  threatenings  to  the  same  purpose. 

It  is  also  foretold  by  the  following  prophets,  as  well  as 
by  Moses,  that  notwithstanding  this  unexampled  disper- 
sion of  the  Jews  into  all  nations,  they  should  be  still  pre- 
served a  distinct  people;  that  God  "  will  not  destroy  them 
utterly,"  but  that  "  when  they  shall  call  to  mind  among 
all  the  nations  whither  God  has  driven  them,  and  shall  re- 
turn to  the  Lord,  he  will  turn  their  captivity,  and  gather 
them  from  all  the  nations — from  the  fartherest  parts  of  the 
earth — even  in  the  latter  days."  That  "though  he 
makes  a  full  end  of  all  other  nations,"  (by  revolutions  and 
mixtures  of  one  people  with  another,  which  renders  it  im- 
possible to  distinguish  their  genuine  descendants)  "  yet 
he  will  not  make  a  full  end  of  them  ;"  but  "  a  remnant  of 
them"  shall  be  kept  unmixed  with  any  other  people,  and 


488  0F  REVEALED  RELIGION". 

M  shall  return  out  of  all  countries  whither  God  has  driven 
them  ;"  that  he  will  "  set  up  an  ensign  for  the  nations, 
and  will  assemble  the  outcasts  of  Israel,"  and  "gather 
together  the  dispersed  of  Judah,"  (die  posterity  of  the  ten 
tribes,  at  present,  according  to  scripture. prophecy,  undis- 
tinguished, as  well  as  of  the  two)  'l  from  the  four  corners 
of  the  earth  ;"  which  shows  that  the  return  here  spoken 
of,  is  not  that  from  the  Babylonish  captivity  ;  as  is  also 
evident  from  its  being  fixed  to  the  "  latter  days,"  and 
from  its  being  also  spoken  of  by  the  prophet  Hosea,  who 
lived  after  the  return  from  the  seventy  years  captivity  of 
Babylon  and  by  Ezekiel  who  lived  in  the  captivity  itself. 

And  in  the  New  Testament  it  is  clearly  foretold  by 
Christ,  that  Jerusalem  should  be  destroyed  with  such  de- 
struction, "  as  had  not  been  since  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  nor  ever  should  be."  And  it  is  remarkable  that  he 
again  expressly  mentions  the  "eagles  ;"inall  probability  to 
pointout  the  lio  mans,  (who  bore  eagles  on  their  standards) 
for  the  executioners  of  the  Divine  vengeance  on  that  ptr- 
verse  people.  Josephus"1  history  of  that  tragical  complication 
ol  events,  corresponds  exactly  to  our  Saviour's  prediction 
of  it.  He  also  foretells  that  the  Jews  should  be  carried 
"  captive  into  all  nations,  and  that  Jerusalem  should  be 
trodden  down  of  the  Gentiles,  till  the  times  of  the  Gentiles 
should  be  fulfilled."  In  the  epistles  there  are  various  pre- 
dictions to  the  same  purpose.  And  we  accordingly  see 
that  people  to  this  day  preserved  distinct  from  all  others 
in  the  world,  without  king,  without  country,  without  go- 
vernment to  enforce  the  observance  of  their  ceremonial 
law,  which  yet  they  keep  up  with  great  strictness,  wherever 
they  can. 

That  through  all  the  changes,  which  have  happened  in 
all  the  other  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  from  the  date  of  the 
first  of  these  predictions  to  the  present  time  (a  period  of 
more  than  three  thousand  years)  that  people  should  have- 
had  exactly  the  fortune  that  was  foretold  them  by  Moses ; 
and  that  they  should  now  in  so  wonderful  and  unexampled 
a  manner  be  preserved  unmixed  with,  and  easily  distin- 
guishable from,  the  people  of  all  the  countries  where  they 
are  scattered  ;  and  this  in  spite  of  the  cruel  usage  they  have 
had  in  most  countries,  which  might  have  been  expected 
to  have  driven  them   long  ago  to  give  up  their  religion, 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  489 

and  mix  with  the  people  among  whom  they  lived ;  and 
that  there  should  nothing  in  this  long  course  of  years 
have  happened,  to  render  it  impossible,  but  that  on  the 
contrarv,  it  should  be  probable,  that  the  remaining  pre- 
diction of  their  return  to  their  own  land,  will  be  accom- 
plished, as  well  as  the  rest;  this  gives,  upon  the  whole, 
such  a  view,  as  is  not  to  be  equalled  by  any  thing  else  in 
the  world ;  the  most  amazing  of  all  phaenomena  !  and 
shows  that  prophecy  is  .given  by  authority  from  the  same 
by  whom  the  government  of  the  world  is  carried  on  ;  since 
none  but  he,  or  whom  he  authorises,  could  thus  declare 
the  end  from  the  beginning. 

No  one  can  imagine  the  following  predictions  to  be  ap- 
plicable to  any  other  than  the  Messiah,  Gen.  iii.  15,  the 
first  prediction  is  given  of  him,  viz.  That  "  the  seed  of 
the  woman  should  bruise  the  head  of  the  serpent."  None 
but  Christ  could  properly  be  called  V  the  seed  of  the  wo- 
man." For  he  alone  was  born  of  a  woman  without  con- 
currence of  man.  Nor  did  any  one  but  he  effectually 
bruise  the  head  of  the  serpent,  or  destroy  the  power  of 
Satan.  Again,  he  is  several  different  times  afterwards 
promised  to  Abraham,  as  he  in  whom  "  all  the  families  of 
the  earth  should  be  blessed."  Now,  there  never  was  any  sin- 
gle person,  besides  Christ,  who  was  a  blessing  to  the  "  whole 
world."  Gen.  xlix.  it  is  foretold  that  the  sceptre  should 
not  depart  trom  Judah,  till  Shiloh  should  come,"  and  that 
"  to  him  should  be  the  gathering  of  the  people."  It  is 
known,  that  the  Jew s  became  subject  to  the  Romans  about 
the  time  of  the  appearance  of  Christ.  And  the  gathering 
of  the  people  to  him  is  very  conspicuous  in  the  general 
diffusion  of  hisreligion  over  most  parts  of  the  world.  The 
words  of  Moses,  Deut.  xviii.  15,  are  applicable  to  none  but 
Christ  only.  "  The  Lord  shall  raise  up  unto  thee  a 
prophet,  from  the  midst  of  thee,  like  unto  me."  But  no 
prophet,  priest,  or  king,  ever  rose  among  that  people  like 
to  Moses,  but  Christ  only.  For  from  Moses  to  Christ,  no 
lawgiver  arose  among  the  Jews;  their  state  being  fixed  by 
God  himself,  to  continue  unchanged  till  the  appearance  of 
the  Messiah. 

The  predictions  of  Isaiah  xi.  1,  3,  6,  &c.  are  still  clearer, 
"  Unto  us  a  child  is  born  ;  unto  us  a  son  is  given  ;  and 
the  government  shall  be  upon  his  shoulders.     His  name 

3Q 


490  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION 

shall  be  called  Wonderful,  Counsellor,  the  mighty  God,  the 
everlasting  Father,  the  Prince  of  peace,"  (Which  titles 
are  somewhat  different  hi  the  Septuagint  translation,  bnt 
such  as  are  applicable  to  none  but  Christ  only.)  "  Of  the 
increase  of  his  government  and  peace  there  shall  be  no  end, 
upon  the  throne  of  David,  and  his  kingdom,  to  order  and 
establish  it  with  judgment,  and  justice  from  henceforth  even 
forever."  And  in  the  xliii.  chap.  "  Behold  my  servant — 
mine  elect,  in  whom  my  soul  delighteth.  I  have  put  my 
spirit  upon  him — he  shall  set  judgment  in  the  earth  ;  and 
the  isles  shall  wait  for  his  law." 

Nor  are  those  of  Jeremiah  less  plainly  applicable  to 
Christ,  and  to  him  only.  Chap,  xxiii  and  xxxiii.  "  I 
will  raise  unto  David  a  righteous  Branch,  and  a  King  shall 
reign  and  prosper,  and  shall  execute  judgment  and  jus- 
tice in  the  earth.  And  this  is  his  name  whereby  he  shall 
be  called,  The  Lord  our  righteousness." 

And  in  Ezekiel  xxxiv,  &c.  "  I  will  set  up  one  shep- 
herd over  them,"  (a  shepherd  of  a  people  always  signifies 
a  prince  or  ruler)  "  and  he  shall  feed  them,  even  my  ser- 
vant David  ;"  plainly  not  David  the  son  of  Jesse  ;  he  hav- 
ing been  dead  long  before  JEzekiePs  time.  "  And  I  will 
make  with  them  a  covenant  of  peace,"  &c.  One  king 
"  shall  be  king  over  them  all ;  neither  shall  they  defile 
themselves  any  more  with  their  idols." 

It  is  predicted  by  Hagfgtn,  that  "the  Desire  of  all  nations 
should  come;"  the  Shiloh,  translated  by  the  Seventy, 
"  the  accomplishment  of  promises."  How  much  the 
coming  of  the  Messiah  was  the  desire  of  all  nations  is 
shown  above,  and  how  properly  Christ  may  be  called  the 
accomplishment  of  promises,  is  known  to  :..ll,  who  know 
his  religion. 

Not  less  express,  than  magnifrcent,  is  the  prediction 
of  Daniel,  chap.  vii.  "  I  saw  in  the  night  visions,  and 
behold  one,  like  the  Son  of  Man,  came  with  the  clouds 
of  heaven,  and  came  to  the  Ancient  of  Days,  and  they 
brought  him  near  before  him.  And  there  was  given  him 
dominion,  and  glory,  and  a  kingdom,  that  all  people, 
nations,  and  languages  should  serve  him.  Flis  dominion 
is  an  everlasting  dominion;  and  his  kingdom  that  which 
shall  not  be  destroyed."  Of  the  title,  "  Son  of  man," 
which  is  found  twice  or  thrice  in  the  Old  Testament,  it 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  491 

may  be  cursorily  remarked,  that  our  Saviour  seems  to 
have  been  particularly  pleased  with  it ;  as  that  name  is 
given  him  in  the  ancient  scriptures  ;  as  it  expresses  his 
sicred  office  of  the  deliverer  of  mankind,  and  suits  the 
glorious  humiliation  he  voluntarily  condescended  to,  in 
assuming  the  human  nature,  and  passing  a  life  on  eardi 
for  the  important  purpose  of  restoring  a  ruined  world. 

In  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah,  JEzekiel,  and  Malachi,  he 
is  spoken  of  as  he  that  was  to  be  .the  "  light  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, their  desire,  their  ruler ;  and  that  through  him  the 
"  name  of  God  should  be  great  among  the  Heathen." 
Nor  is  there  any  one  to  whom  these  characters  can  be  ap- 
plied, but   Christ  only. 

The  important  circumstance  of  his  giving  his  life  for 
the  world  is  clearly  held  forth  by  the  prophets  Daniel  and 
Isaiah,  the  former  of  which  speaks  of  him  as  to  appear 
"  seven  weeks,"  that  is  forty-nine  years,  taking,  (accord- 
ing to  the  prophetical  style,  a  day  for  a  year)  "  from  the 
going  forth  of  the  commandment  to  restore  and  build 
Jerusalem ,"  and  that  he  should  be  "  cut  off;  but  not  for 
himself. ;"  And  the  latter  says  of  him;  "  Surely  he  hath 
borne  our  griefs — he  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions ; 
he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities.  He  is  brought  as  a 
lamb  to  the  slaughter ;  and  as  a  sheep  before  her  shearers 
is  dumb,  so  he  openeth  not  his  mouth.  For  the  trans- 
gressions of  my  people  was  he  stricken.  And  he  made 
his  grave  with  the  wicked,  and  with  the  rich  in  his  death." 
— Which  words  are  suspected  to  be  transposed,  and  that 
his  death  ought  to  have  been  put  with  the  wicked,  and 
his  grave  with  the  rich  ;  as  he  was  crucified  between  two 
thieves,  and  buried  by  Joseph  of  Arimathcea,  who 
was  rich.  "  He  was  numbered  with  the  transgressors, 
and  bare  the  sin  of  many.,  and  made  intercession  for  sin- 
ners." 

It  is  foretold  by  Isaiah,  chap,  xxxv,  that  the  Messiah 
should  perform  many  great  and  beneficial  miracles  ;  that 
"  the  eyes  of  the  blind  should  be  opened  ;  and  the  ears 
of  the  deaf  unstopped  ;  that  the  lame  man  should  leap  as 
an  hart,  and  the  tongue  of  the  dumb  sing."  Many  min- 
ute circumstances  are  foretold  of  him,  sucli  as  his  being 
of  the  tribe  of  Judah  and  seed  of  David;  that  he  should 
be  born  at  Bethlehem,  (Mic.  v.  2.)  that  he  should  ride 


492  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

in  humble  triumph  into  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  (Zach.  ix. 
9  )  hat  he  should  be  sold  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  (ibid 
xi.  \2)  that  he  should  be  scourged,  buffetted,  and  spit 
upon,  (Isa.  1.6.)  that  his  hands  and  feet  should  be  ]  ierced; 
(Psal.  xxiv.  16.)  that  he  ^-hould  be  numbered  among  mal. 
efaetors,  flsa.  liii.  12.)  that  he  should  have  gall  and  vin- 
egar  offered  him  to  drink,  Psal  Ixix.  21.)  that  they  who 
saw  him  crucified,  should  mock  at  his  trusting  in  God, 
(Psal.  xxii.  8.)  that  the  soldiers  should  cast  lots  lor  his 
garments,  (ibid.  18.)  that  he  should  be  buried  by  a  rich 
man,  (Isa.  uii.  9.)  and  that  he  should  not  see  corrup- 
tion, (Psal.  xvi.  10.)  The  completion  of  all  which  pre- 
dictions in  Christ  is  visible  in  his  history  in  the  New- 
Testament. 

To  what  character  besides  that  of  Christy  are  all  these 
predictions  applicable?  And  are  they  not  ail  strictly  appli- 
cable to  Christ,  and  clearly  fulfilled  in  him  ?  Should  now 
a  set  of  satirical,  or,  enigmatical  writings  be  proposed  to 
be  explained;  who  would  hesitate  whether  the  true  sense, 
and  proper  application  of  them  was  discovered,  when  a 
sense  was  found,  which  tallied  exactly  in  every  particular; 
who  would  imagine  those  writings  to  have  been  composed 
by  chance,  which  showed  so  much  regularity  and  con- 
nexion, and  which  suited  so  well  the  proposed  explica- 
tion of  them  ? 

The  predictions  which  Christ  himself  delivered  concern- 
ing events  that  were  to  happen  after  his  time,  were  con- 
firmations no  less  authentic  of  the  Divine  Authority  of  his 
doctrine,  than  the  completion  in  him,  of  the  prophecies 
given  of  old.  Besides  those  he  gave  of  his  own  death, 
with  the  particular  circumstances  of  it ;  of  the  behaviour 
of  his  disciples  on  that  occasion;  of  the  descent  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  aid  the  miraculous  powers  to  be  communi- 
ca&d  to  his  disciples  ;  besides  those,  he  gave  some,  which 
cannot  be  pretended  to  have  been  forged  after  the  events, 
as  has  been  alleged  of  some  of  the  scripture  prophecies. 
His  predictions  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  and  dis- 
persions for  a  very  long  period,  of  the  Jews  into  all  nations, 
but  so  as  they  should  be  preserved  distinct  from  all  other 
people  in  order  to  their  restoration  ;  of  the  general  preva- 
lence of  his  religion  over  the  world,  and  its  continuance 
to  all  ages;  and  of  the  mischiefs,  consequent  upon  the  per- 


OF  REVEALED  RF.LTGIQN.  495 

version  of  it ;  these  are  events,  which  at  that  time  were  to 
the  highest  degree  improbable.  It  was  altogether  need- 
less tor  him  to  risk  his  credit  upon  the  completion  of  these 
predictions;  nor  is  it  to  be  supposed,  a  person  of  his  wis- 
dom would  have  needlessly  hazarded  the  confutation  of 
his  whole  scheme  in  such  a  manner,  if  he  had  not  been  cer- 
tain that  what  he  foretold  would  be  fully  accomplished, 
and  that  though  heaven  and  earth  were  to  pass  awa\ ,  his 
word  should  stand,  as  the  event  hitherto  has  sufficiently 
shown. 

That  a  power  of  so  extraordinary  a  kind,  and  which 
should  produce  such  important  effects,  especially  upon  the 
religious  state  of  the  world,  as  Popery  has  done,  should 
be  predicted  in  scripture,  was  reasonably  to  be  expected. 
Accordingly  by  Daniel,  who  flourished  near  three  thou- 
sand years  ago,  it  is  foretold,  chap.  vii.  19,  that  there 
should  be  a  tyrannical  po^ver,  which  should  "  wear  out 
the  saints  of  the  Most  High,"  and  that  they  should"  be 
given  into  his  hands  until  a  time,  and  times,  and  the 
dividing  of  times,"  that  is  a  year  and  two  years,  and  half 
a  year,  which  give  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty 
days,  which  in  prophetic  style  signifies  so  many  years. 
This  period  is  also  mention*  d  in  five  different  predictions 
in  the  New  Testament.  This  power  is  spoken  of,  verse 
23,  as  a  kingdom  "different  from  all  before  it."  And  so 
indeed  it  is  ;  being  a  religious  tyranny,  or  secular  king- 
dom founded  on  a  pretence  of  religion.  It  is  represented 
as  a  monster  with  "  teeth  of  iron;"  and  "  claws  of  brass ;" 
and  very  properly;  for  it  is  the  character  of  that  merciless 
religion  to  destroy  all  who  oppose  it,  and  to  endeavour 
(by  driving  those  who  are  so  unhappy  as  to  fall  under  it's 
tyranny  to  make  shipwreck  of  conscience)  to  damn  ail 
whom  it  destroys.  It  is  spoken  of  as  "  devouring,  stamp- 
ing in  pieces,"  and  laying  waste  the  whole  world,  as 
"  changing  times  and  laws,"  and  "speaking  great  words 
against  the  Most  High."  All  which  suit  the  blood-thirsty 
cruelty,  the  unequalled  arrogance,  and  blasphemous  im- 
piety of  the  bishops  and  church  of  Rome  to  the  greatest 
exactness.  It  is  there  said,  that  he  should  not  "  rep-ard 
the  desire  of  women  :"  which  plainly  points  out  the  pro- 
hibition of  marriage;  that  he  should  "honour  gods-pro- 
tectors," that  is,  tutelar  saints,  and  "a  god,  whom  his 


494      -  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

fathers  knew  not,"  a  wafer-god,  of  which  god  some  thou- 
sand., are  made  in  one  day  by  the  priests,  and  eaten,  and 
(Jigested  by  the  people.     <)<-<_•  also  1  77;;?.  iv. 

in  the  Apocalypse,  chap,  xi,  xii,  &c.  it  is  copiously  des- 
cribed, where  it  is  represented  under  the  appearance  of  a 
monster,  or  "  wild  beast,"  whose  "  seven  heads"  signify, 
as  afterwards  explained,  the  seven  hills  upon  which  Rome 
was  buiit,  and  "ten  horns"  the  ten  kingdoms,  into  which 
the  Roman  empire  was  divided,  whose  "blasphemous 
names"  are  notorious,  as  of  God's  vicegerent,  Our  lord 
god  die  pope,  Vice-god,  and  the  like,  who  "wars  with  the 
s-tints,  and  overcomes  them ;  who  "  receives  power  over  the 
nations,"  and  is  "  worshipped"  by  them.  The  same  isalso 
afterwards  represented  under  the  character  of  the  "  great 
harlot,"  or  idolatress,  with  whom  the  "  kings  of  the  earth 
have  committed  fornication,"  that  is  the  idolatry  of  wor- 
shipping the  images  of  saints,  and  kneeling  to  the  Host. 
She  is  afterwards  represented  as  "drunk  with  the  blood" 
of  the  martyrs  of  Jesus.  The  kings  of  the  earth  are  after- 
wards mentioned  as  "giving  their  power  to  the  monster," 
as  ir  is  notorious  that  most  of  the  kings  in  Europe  acknowl- 
edged the  pope  for  their  lord  god,  and  held  their  crowns 
of  him,  as  some  of  them  do  still.  The  same  power  is 
likewise  held  forth  under  the  figure  of  a  great  city,  the 
seat  of  wealth,  luxury,  pleasure,  riches,  and  commerce, 
one  article  of  which  commerce,  peculiar  to  Rome  papal, 
•  is  her  trade  in  the  souls  of  men." 

And  by  the  apostle  Paul  this  fatal  delusion  is  called 
The  man  of  sin,  or  the  very  abstract  and  quintessence  of 
iniquity,  a  character  fit  only  for  the  popish  religion,  as  it 
alone  of  all  religions  contains  an  assemblage  of  all  that  is 
most  exquisitely  wicked,  beyond  what  could  have  been 
thought  within  the  reach  of  human  invention  unassisted  by 
d  emons.  Of  whk.h  the  infernal  court  of  inquistion  is  a 
pregnant  proof;  where  cruelty,  the  disposition  the  most 
opposite  to  all  good,  is  carried  to  that  diabolical  excess,  that 
few  hearts  are  hard  enough  to  bear  the  mere  description  of  it 
it  in  a  book .  The  propriety  of  giving  die  appellation  of  The 
man  of  sin,  to  the  Romish  imposture,  appears  from  con- 
sidering, that  it  has  had  the  peculiar  cursed  art  not  only  to 
turn  the  mildest  of  all  religions  into  a  scene  of  the  most  hor- 
rible barbarity:   but  to  make  the  most  pure  and  heavenly 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION".  4(75 

svstem  of  doctrines  and  laws,  which  ever  were,  or  iviH 
be,  given  to  men,  an  authority  for  establishing  for  points 
of  faith  the  most  hideous  absurdities,  and  contradictions 
to  common  sense  ;  and  for  licensing  every  abominable 
wickedness  that  has  ever  been  thought  of  or  practised. 
Insomuch,  that  the  fixed  rates  of  absolution,  for  the  most 
horrid  and  unnatural  vices,  stand  appointed  by  their  popes, 
and  published  in  different  editions.  By  which  means,  the 
great  design  of  Christianity,  which  was  to  teach  men,  to 
deny  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  and  to  live  soberly, 
righteously,  and  godly,  is  defeateel  among  the  deluded  pro- 
selytes to  that  infamous  religion.  For  instead  of  this,  po- 
pery teaches,  that  any  man,  who  pays  handsomely,  may 
have  an  indulgence  for  any  number  of  years  to  live  m  all 
manner  of  abominable  impiety,  profaneness,  and  impurity. 
Is  not  this  The  man  of  sin  ? 

Whoever  would  see  how  exactly  the  scripture  predic- 
tions are  suited  to  represent  this  diabolical  delusion,  has 
only  to  read  the  histories  of  popery,  and  accounts  of  the 
inquisition.  There  he  will  find  what  hideous  ravages  has 
been  made  by  it  in  different  countries.  Witness  their  in- 
famous croisades ;  the  massacres  of  the  JValdenses  and 
Alhigenses,  of  whom  almost  a  million  were  reckoned  to  be 
slain.  In  thirty  years  from  the  founding  of  the  order  of 
the  Jesuits,  above  eight  hundred  thousand  protestants  were 
put  to  death  by  the  hand  of  the  executioner  onlv.  The 
bloody  butchering  duke  of  Aha  used  to  make  it  his  boast 
of  having  cutoffinafew  years  thirty  thousand  protestants 
in  the  Netherlands.  The  destruction  of  helpless  victims 
sacrificed  to  that  infernal  fury,  the  inquisition,  in  one  period 
of  thirty  years,  is  reckoned  at  one  hundred  and  fiftv  thou- 
sand. Is  not  this  dreadful  and  wide- wasting  mischief,  this 
terror  of  human  nature,  this  hell  on  earth,  properly  repre- 
sented as  a  monster,  or  wild  beast,  with  iron  teeth  to  de- 
vour and  destroy,  as  drunk  with  blood,  and  aspiring  to  an 
authority  above  all  that  is  called  God,  or  is  worshipped, 
that  is,  above  all  other  power  and  government,  challenging 
the  privilege  of  the  grand  tyrant  and  destroyer? 

These  are  only  a  few  among  many  instances  of  the  un- 
equalled horrors  of  this  fatal  delusion,  and  of  the  exactness 
of  the  scripture  predictions,  which  can  be  applied  to  noth- 
ing else,  that  ever  was  heard  of  upon  earth.     And  ifin  thr 


496  OF  REVFALF.D  RFLlGlON. 

days  of  the  authors  of  the  above  predictions,  there  was 
nothing  known  among  mankind,  which  might  give  the  hint 
oi  Mich  a  power  as  that  of  antichrist,  or  popery  ;  and  if  no 
account  ol  this  power  in  our  times,  when  it  isso  well  known 
can  in  prophetic  style  more  clearly  describe  it,  than  we 
find  it  represented -in  die  predictions  of  scripture,  let  the 
opposers  of  prophecy  account  for  this  wonderful  agreement 
between  the  prediction  and  the  completion,  as  they  best 
can. 

These  are  a  few,  among  almost  innumerable  predictions 
of  future  events,  of  which  holy  scripture  is  full.  And,  as 
these  show  themselves  clearly  to  be  genuine  revelations 
from  God  ;  the  others  contained  in  the  same  writings  may 
in  reason  be  supposed  to  be  of  the  same  original,  though 
the  times  when  they  were  given,  and  the  exactness  of  their 
respective  completions,  should  be  more  subject  to  cavil, 
than  these  here  quoted.  And  the  opposers  of  the  revela- 
tion, in  which  these  predictions  are  contained,  are  in  rea- 
son obliged  to  give  some  plausible  account,  how  they 
came  there,  it  not  by  Divine  inspiration. 

Let  Christianity  have  been  introduced  into  the  world 
when  it  woulel,  it  is  impossible  to  give  any  rational  or  sat- 
isfying account  of  its  prevalence  and  establishment,  but 
its  being  a  Divine  institution.  For  supposing  it  forged 
in  any  age  before  or  since  the  received  date  of  about  seven- 
teen hunelred  years  ago,  it  will  be  equally  impossible  to 
conceive  how  it  should  come  to  pass  upon  mankind,  if  it 
was  a  fiction.  The  christian  reiigion  has  been  established 
upon  the  ruins  of  the  national  religion  of  every  country, 
in  which  it  has  been  received.  It  had  therefore  the  united 
forces  of  regal  power,  sacerdotal  craft,  and  the  popular  su- 
perstition to  bear  down,  before  it  could  get  footing  in  the 
World.  Its  character  is  directly  opposite  to  the  sordid 
views  and  secular  interests  of  mankind,  and  acceptable  to 
none  but  virtuous  and  elevated  minds,  which  in  all  ages 
and  nations  have  ever  been  comparatively  a  very  small  num- 
ber of  the  species,  and  not  fit,  nor  disposed  to  struggle 
with,  much  less  likely  to  get  the  better  of,  the  majorin  ,  so 
as  to  cram  a  set  of  falsehoods  down  their  throats. 

Ail  the  false  schemes  of  religion,  which  ever  prevailed 

in  the  world,  have  come  to  be  established  either  by  the 

Hide's  being  led  to  embrace  them  by  craft,  or  driven 


OF  REVE\LED  RELIGION.  497 

to  it  by  force.  That  Christianity  was  established  by  craft, 
is  on  all  accounts  incredible,  and  particularly  from  consid- 
ering its  character,  which  is  altogether  separate  from 
worldly  views,  or  any  kind  of  motives,  which  might  in- 
cline men  to  deceive ;  and  especially  from  its  setting  up 
upon  the  foot  of  the  most  strict  integrity,  of  commanding 
all  its  votaries  to  avoid  even  the  least  appearance  of  evil, 
and  bv  no  means  to  think  of  doing  evil  for  the  sakt  of  any 
possible  good  consequence.  Such  precepts  as  these 
would  by  no  means  have  suited  a  scheme  calculated  for 
deceiving  mankind.  On  the  contrary,  we  always  find  the 
great  doctrine  preached  up  by  impostors  is,  zeal  for  the 
cause,  rather  than  for  the  truth.  This  appears  dreadfully 
conspicuous  in  the  bloody  catalogue  of  sufferers,  who  have 
fallen  a  sacrifice  to  the  Mahometan  and  popish  delusions. 
The  opposers  of  Christianity  are  obliged,  if  they  will  show 
themselves  reasoners,  to  give  some  rational  account  of  the 
establishment  of  it,  upon  the  supposition  of  its  being  false. 
They  are  in  reason  obliged  to  show  how  a  religion  requir- 
ing the  most  strict  purity  of  heart  and  severity  of  manners, 
the  mortifying  of  inordinate  lusts  and  inclinations,  the 
avoiding  every  appearance  of  evil,  and  encountering  all 
manner  of  difficulties,  and  even  death  itself,  if  required,  in 
testimony  for  truth  ;  they  ought  to  show  how  such  a  re- 
ligion could  have  been  established  in  the  world  by  such 
seemingly  unpromising  and  inadequate  means,  as  those  by 
which  Christianity  actually  was  propagated  ;  and  that  all 
this  might,  in  a  way  unaccountable  by  human  reason,  and 
suitable  to  the  usual  course  of  thinsrs,  have  come  about  in 
spite  of  universal  opposition  from  all  those  in  whose  hands 
the  secular  power  was  then  lodged  ;  and  in  spite  of  that 
most  unconquerable  of  all  prejudices,  which  mankind 
have  for  the  religion  they  were  brought  up  in.  The  op- 
posers  of  Christianity  ought  to  show  that  there  have  been 
instances  similar  to  this ;  and  that  a  few  artless,  illiterate 
fishermen  might  reasonably  be  supposed  equal  to  a  design 
of  outwitting  all  mankind,  imposing  a  set  of  gross  false- 
hoods upon  them,  and  confounding  their  understandings 
with  fictitious  miracles,  which  they  voluntarily,  no  one 
knows  why,  swallowed  down  without  examination;  and 
the  consequence  of  which  was  the  overturning  all  the  na- 
tional religions  of  a  great  part  of  the  world,  in  spite  of  the 

3  R 


498  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

power  of  princes,  the  zeal  of  the  priests,  and  the  bigotry  of 
the  people.  If  they  cannot  find  some  rational  and  probable 
nay  for  accounting  for  this  strange  and  unexampled  phe- 
nomenon, upon  the  supposition  of  Christianity's  being  a 
fiction ;  if  they  cannot  show,  that  fraud  was  used  (for  no 
one  ever  alleged  force)  they  must  yield  the  point,  and  ac- 
quiesce in  the  account  given  in  the  New  Testament,  to 
wit,  That  it  made  its  way  in  the  world  by  the  power  of 
its  own  irresistible  evidence. 

The  author  of  our  religion  must  either  have  been,  truly 
and  indeed,  what  he  declares  himself;  the  Son  of  God, 
and  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  his  religion  a  Divine  appoint- 
ment ;  or  he  must  have  been  an  impostor,  or  an  enthusi- 
ast, or  madman,  and  his  religion  either  a  secular  scheme, 
an  involuntary  delusion,  or  a  pious  fraud. 

That  Jesus  Christ  was  no  impostor  will  plainly  appear,  if 
we  consider  first  what  a  monstrous  pitch  of  desperate  and 
abandoned  wickedness  was  necessary  to  carry  a  person  the 
lengths  he  went,  if  he  was  not  really  what  he  pretended.  The 
whole  body  of  history  cannot  p'roduce  such  another  in- 
stance of  daring  impiety.     For  no  impostor  ever  arrogated 
such  high  honours  and  characters  as  he  does ;  which  to 
think  of  as  mere  fiction  and  groundless  pretence,  is  start- 
ling to  human  nature.     To  suppose  a  man  in  his  senses 
to  go  on,  constantly  and  invariablv  for  several  years,  giv- 
ing out,  that  he  was  the  beloved  Son  of  God ;  that  he 
came  down  from  heaven,  whither  he  was  again  to  return ; 
that  he  had  enjoyed  glory  with  God  before  the  world  was  ; 
that  he  had  power  to  forgive  sin ;  that  he  was  to  judge 
the  world;  to  hear  him  address  the  Deity  as  he  does,  John 
xviiith,  appealing  to  him  for  tht  truth  of  his  pretensions, 
and  keeping  in  the  same  strain  to  the  last  moment  of  his 
ufe  ;  to  suppose  any  man  in  his  senses  capable  of  all  this 
i rightful  impiety,  is  imagining  somewhat  altogether  unex- 
ampled, especially  if  we  take  along  wjth  it,  that  we  have 
from  this  most  impious  of  all  impostors  the  best  system  of 
laws  that  ever  was  given  to  the  sons  of  men,  the  peculiar 
excellence  of  which  is  their  excluding  all  impiety,  fraud, 
and  secular  views,  teaching  to  avoid  even  the  least  appear- 
ance of  evil,  and  to  give  up  all  for  truth  and  conscience. 

Again,  what  shadow  or  surmise,  of  indirect  dealing, 
What  suspicion  of  any  thing  immoral,  or  unjustifiable, 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  499 

appears  against  his  character  ?  What  fault  were  his  ene- 
mies able  to  lay  to  his  charge,  when  challenged  by  him, 
except  that  he  had  exposed  their  wickedness  and  hypoc- 
risy ?  Even  when  Judas,  who  knew  his  whole  conduct, 
desired  to  betray  him,  was  he  able  to  find  any  thing  against 
him?  Had  hisbehaviourbeenatall  suspiciousorobnoxious 
is  there  any  reason  to  question  whether  Judas  had  it  not  in 
his  power  to  have  detected  and  informed  against  him  ?  And 
is  it  to  be  supposed,  that  his  inveterate  wickedness  would 
suffer  any  pretence  for  accusing  his  master,  and  justify  irtg 
his  own  malice  against  him,  to  pass  unimproved  to  the 
utmost  ? 

Besides,  if  the  author  of  our  religion  was  an  impostor, 
what  was  his  scheme  in  deceiving  mankind  ?  Not  any 
■secular  advantage.  For  it  is  notorious,  that  poverty,  con- 
tempt, persecution,  and  death,  were  his  portion,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  prediction ;  that  his  followers  had  no  bet- 
ter treatment  for  the  first  three  centuries  ;  that  the  empe- 
ror Constant  ine's  giving  secular  advantages  to  the  Chris- 
tians was  the  first  blow  struck  to  the  original  disinterested 
purity  of  that  religion  ;  and  that  from  the  time  the  world 
was  thrust  into  the  church,  religion  began  to  decline ;  which 
shows,  that  secular  views  were  inconsistent  with  its  true 
design  and  genius. 

If  it  was  set  up  with  a  view  to  worldly  grandeur,  how 
comes  it  every  where  to  inculcate  the  contempt  of  riches, 
honours,  and  pleasures,  and  the  pursuit  of  things,  spirit- 
ual and  heavenly  ?  What  steps  were  taken  by  Christ,  or 
his  followers,  to  aggrandize  themselves?  Was  not,  on  the 
contrary,  their  practise  suitable  to  their  doctrine  ?  Is  not 
the  whole  of  their  character  a  perfect  pattern  of  self-de- 
nial and  abstinence  ?  Who  has  ever  convicted  them  of 
any  one  instance  of  worldly  craft  or  design  ?  It  is  certain 
from  all  accounts,  sacred  and  profane,  that  at  the  time  of 
Christ's  appearance  in  the  world,  there  was  a  general  ex- 
pectation of  the  Messiah  ;  and  that  the  idea  formed  by 
the  gross  apprehensions  of  the  people,  of  the  character  he 
was  to  appear  in,  was  that  of  a  great  prince.  What  could 
therefore  be  more  natural  for  an  impostor,  than  to  take 
the  advantage  of  this  prejudice,  so  favourable  to  a  worldly 
scheme  ?  Instead  of  which  we  find  him,  (and  his  apostles 
after  they  came  once  to  understand  the  scheme  he  was  up- 


500  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

on)  setting  up  on  a  quite  different  footing,  the  most  un- 
popular plan,  that  could  have  been  thought  of;  disclaim- 
ing  ail  worldly  views,  and  declaring  that  their  profession 
It  u  directly  to  poverty  and  suffering.  It  is  indeed  evident, 
that  considering  the  universal  prejudice  of  the  Jews  with 
respect  10  the  character  in  which  the  Saviour  of  the  world 
was  to  appear,  it  must  have  been  impossible -for  a  person 
of  that  nation  to  frame  an  idea  of  a  suffering  Messiah 
but  by  inspiration,  or  from  understanding  the  ancient  pre- 
dictions concerning  him  in  a  manner  quite  different  from 
what  was  useful  among  them. 

Farther ;  what  probability  is  there,  that  he  who  had  saga- 
city enough  to  contrive  a  scheme,  v»  hich  did  in  effect  pre- 
vail against  all  opposition,  should  yet  be  so  imprudent,  as 
to  hazard  the  disappointment  of  his  whole  design  by  over- 
loading it  with  so  many  incumbrances?  Why  should  he 
pretend  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  il  it  had  not  been  true?  How, 
indeed,  could  a  mere  human  brain  invent  such  a  thought? 
How  work  out  of  itself  the  imaginations  of  his  having 
enjoyed  pre-existent  glory  with  God,  of  his  coming  into 
the  world  to  give  his  life  for  the  life  of  the  world ;  and  of 
his  being  the  appointed  future  Judge  of  the  human  race  ; 
There  is  something  in  this,  which  lies  wholly  out  of  the 
way  of  mere  humanity.  And  accordingly,  those  who 
heard  him,  at  least  the  unprejudiced,  owned,  that  "he 
spoke  as  never  man  spoke."  But  farther;  Why  should  be 
forewarn  his  followers  of  the  discouraging  consequences  of 
their  adherence  to  his  religion,  if  he  had  been  capable  of 
deceiving?  Why  should  he  disappoint  the  inclinations  and 
prejudices  of  the  people,  who  wanted  a  worldly  Messiah, 
if  he  himself  aimed  at  worldly  grandeur?  Why  should  he 
prevent  many  from  following  him,  who  were  disposed  to 
dp  it,  by  undeceiving  them,  and  informing  them  that  his 
kingdom  was  not  of  this  world?  Why  should  he  exert  a 
supernatural  power  to  withdraw  himself  from  among  them, 
when  they  were  going  to  rais<  him  to  regal  authority  ;  if 
secular  power  was  what  he  aspired  after? 

And,  supposing  Christianity  an  invention  of  later  date, 
why  should  the  Saviour  of  the  world  be  represented  in  the 
supposed  fictitious  history,  as  suffering  a  shameful  death? 
"Would  it  not  have  been  more  likely  to  take  with  mankind, 
for  the  inventors  of  the  scheme  to  have  represented  the 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  501 

author  of  the  religion  thev  wanted  to  persuade  mankind  to 
the  belief  of,  as  a  victorious  prince,  who  had  got  the  bet- 
ter of  all  opposition,  than  as  out"  who  appeared  on  earth  in 
the  most  lowly  station;  despised  and  abused,  while  he 
lived,  and  at  last  put  to  an  infamous  death  between  two 
thieves. 

Let  it  now  be  considered  (if  indeed  it  be  worth  while  to 
consider  what  is  so  grossly  absurd)  what  possibility  chert! 
is  of  Christ's  having  been  an  enthusiast,  or  phrenetic.  In 
order  to  judge  properly  of  this,  let  it  be  computed,  what 
degree  of  enthusiasm  was  necessary  to  bring  a  person  to 
persuade  himself,  that  he  was  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 
the  Messiah,  the  Anointed  of  God,  the  Son  of  God,  who 
had  existed  before  the  creation  of  this  world,  and  w;s  again 
to  ascend  to  his  former  o-lorv  with  God,  after  furnishing: 
the  great  work,  for  which  he  came  into  the  world;  what 
degree  of  enthusiasm  or  madness  must  that  man  have  been 
worked  up  to,  who  could  believe  all  this  of  himself,  while 
he  was  really  no  more  than  another  mortal ?  How  misera- 
ble must  his  phrenzy  have  been  ?  How  confounded  and 
broke  all  his  faculties  ? 

Next,  let  it  be  attended  to,  what  suitableness  there  is 
between  such  a  degree  of  distraction  as  this,  and  the  whole 
character  and  conduct  of  the  author  of  our  religion.  What 
single  instance  does  he  give  of  even  common  frailty,  or  of 
such  imprudence  as  is  observed  at  times  in  the  conduct 
of  the  wisest  men;  in  the  conduct  even  of  inspired  men? 
While  prophets,  and  apostles  are  in  scripture  represented 
as  falling  into  the  common  weaknesses  of  human  nature, 
(an  argument  of  the  truth  of  sacred  history)  his  behaviour 
stands  wholly  clear  of  every  instance  of  infirmity  or  frailty. 
Where  are  the  ragings  and  bello wings  of  enthusiasm  ? 
What  signs  did  he  give  of  a  distempered,  or  overheated 
imagination?  Is  not  his  whole  conduct  a  perfect  pattern 
of  calmness,  prudence  and  caution?  Does  he  not  baffle  the 
malicious  and  ensnaring  questions  of  his  crafty  enemies 
by  a  wisdom,  which  puts  them  all  to  silence?  Are  not  his 
answers  so  guarded  as  to  defeat  their  studied  questions? 
Are  the  artful,  the  malicious,  and  the  learned,  more  than 
children,  or  fools,  before  him  ?  Is  this  the  character  of  an 
enthusiast?  Does  madness  thus  weigh  its  answers?  Has 
the  brain-sick  visionary  any  such  guard  over  himself,  as 


O02  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

to  moid  the  snare  tha*  is  laid  for  him?  Not  only  to  avoid 
the  snare  himself,  but  likewise  to  put  to  confusion  and 
silence  his  adversaries? 

Let  it  also  be  considered,  whether  it  is  possible  that 
such  a  system  of  doctrines  and  laws  should  be  the  pro- 
duction of  an  enthusiastic  or  distempered  brain.  A  sys- 
tem, wtiiph  has  afforded  the  wisest  of  our  species  matter 
for  study,  examination,  and  admiration,  ever  since  it  has 
been  published  to  the  world.  A  set  of  doctrines  more  sub- 
lime than  all  that  ever  were  taught  mankind  before.  Dis- 
coveries, which  neither  sacred,  nor  profane  antiquity  had 
before  exhibited  to  mankind.  Solutions  of  the  very  dif- 
ficulties, which  had  put  the  wisdom  of  the  ancients  to  a 
stand.  Doctrines,  beyond  the  natural  reach  of  human 
reason,  and  yet,  when  discovered,  commending  them. -a  Ives 
to  reason,  and  bearing  the  internal  marks  of  their  Divine 
original.  Precepts,  whose  purity  puts  the  ancient  legis- 
lators to  shame.  Laws,  tending  to  improve  human  nature 
to  its  utmost  perfection.  A  rule  of  life  superior  to  all 
others,  in  its  being  absolutely  perfect  and  complete,  want- 
ing nothing  proper  for  the  regulation  of  every  passion  ad 
appetite,  for  the  directing  >o  the  complete  performance  of 
every  social  and  relative  duty,  and  fixing  the  only  accept- 
able way  of  worshipping  the  One  Supreme.  A  scheme, 
of  which  it  is  with  reason  said  in  scripture,  that  the  angels 
desire  to  look  imo  it.  Are  these  the  productions  of  a 
visionary?  these  the  reveries  of  a  hot-brain'd  enthusiast? 
It  is  plain  that  his  enemies  neither  thought  him  such,  nor 
thought  it  possible  to  persuade  the  generality  of  the  peo- 
ple, who  conversed  with  him,  to  think  so  of  him.  For, 
if  the)  could  have  made  him  pass  for  an  enthusiastic  or 
phrenetic  person,  they  certainly  would  have  chose  that  as 
the  easiest  way  of  ridding  themselves  of  him,  and  putting 
a  stop  to  his  scheme. 

If  it  can  be  proved,  that  the  religion  of  Jesus  is  by  no 
means  a  fraud  of  any  kind,  it  will  unquestionably  follow, 
that  it  is  not  a  pious  fraud.  But  that  Christianity  is  no 
fraud  of  any  kind  is  plain,  not  only  from  the  excellency 
of  its  doctrines  and  precepts,  the  character  of  its  author 
and  first  propagators,  and  its  express  prohibition  of  evcry 
appearance  of  deceit  on  whatever  pretence,  but  from  the 
concurrence  and  coincidence  of  innumerable  collateral 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION*.  50S 

evidences,  which  by  their  very  nature  were  not  within 
the  reach  of  human  contrivance.  The  whole  body  of 
revelation  is  to  be  considered  as  one  uniform  scheme, 
reaching  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  world ;  in 
which  the  salvation  of  mankind  by  the  Messiah  is  the 
principal  part,  or  point  of  view,  to  which  all  the  others 
lead,  and  with  which  they  are  connected,  in  such  a  man- 
ner, that  the  whole  must  stand  or  fall  together.  So  that 
if  the  Christian  religion  be  a  delusion,  it  is  evidently  too 
great  and  extensive  to  be  a  delusion  of  human  invention. 
That  it  is  no  contrivance  of  evil  spirits,  is  plain  from  its 
direct  tendency  to  promote  virtue  and  goodness,  and  to 
banish  all  kinds  of  impiety  and  vice  out  of  the  world.  It 
must  therefore  be  a  scheme  of  some  being,  or  beings,  su- 
perior to  humanity.  Which  is  owning  it  to  be  a  Divine 
appointment:  For  we  have  no  conception  of  a  fraud  con- 
trived by  any  good  being  of  the  angelic  rank. 

That  it  should  be  prophesied  at  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  and  recorded  by  Moses  a  thousand  years  before  the 
appearance  of  Christ,  "  that  the  Seed  of  the  woman  should 
bruise  the  serpent's  head,"  and  that  Christ  should  be  the 
seed  of  a  woman,  miraculously  conceived  without  the 
concurrence  of  a  male  ;  could  this  have  come  about  by- 
human  contrivance  ?  When  it  is  repeatedly  foretold  by 
the  prophets,  that  Christ  should  come  of  the  posterity  of 
Abraham,  of  Isaac,  of  Jacob,  of  David;  that  he  should 
be  born  at  Bethlehem  ;  that  he  should  appear  about  the 
time  of  the  u  departure  of  the  sceptre  from  Judah,"  that 
he  should  be  "  cut  off,  but  not  for  himself ;  be  pierced, 
be  put  to  death  with  the  wicked,  and  buried  by  the  rich  ; 
that  he  should  be  sold  for  thirty  pieces  of  silver ;"  and  all 
the  circumstances  of  his  death  particularly  pointed  out ; 
that  all  these,  and  many  other  predictions  fulfilled  in  Christ, 
and  answering  to  none  else  but  him,  should  be  found  in 
the  scriptures  preserved  by  the  Jews,  the  violent  opposers 
of  Christ  and  his  religion  ;  let  the  inventors  of  Christian- 
ity (supposing  it  an  invention)  have  been  ever  so  cunning 
they  never  could  have  modelled  the  whole  scheme  from  the 
very  beginning,  so  as  it  should  answer  their  purpose  ;  they 
could  never  have  brought  things  about  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  make  them  suit  in  such  a  number  of  particulars,  as 


504  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

will  appear  by  running  over  the  various  evidences  for  our 

ion. 

And  it  is  notorious,  that  not  only  the  weak,  and  illiterate, 
but  some  of  the  wise  and  learned,  embraced  Christianity  at 
the  time  when  it  might  with  ease  and  certainty  have  been 
discovered  to  be  an  imposture,  if  it  realty  was  so ;  that 
those  who  at  first  were  pr<  judiced  against  it  were  afterwards 
converted  to  the  belief  ol  it :  that  numbers  of  those  \\  ho 
certcinly  knew  whether  Jesus  Christ  was  really  risen  from 
the  dead  or  not,  gave  up  their  In  es  in  attestation,  not  of  an 
opinion,  but  of  a  simple  fact,  concerning  the  truth  or  false- 
hood of  which  they  could  not  have  the  least  doubt :  that 
the  first  propagators  of  Christianity  were  not  to  be  put  to 
silence  by  all  the  opposition  they  met  with  from  all  the 
powers  of  the  world  :  that  though  they  expected  nothing 
but  persecution,  imprisonment,  scourging  andall  kinds  of 
abuse,  in  every  place  they  went  to,  without  any  one  earthly 
comfort  to  make  up  for  their  sufferings,  without  the  least 
shadow  of  any  temporal  advantage  ;  they  went  on  still  inde- 
fatigable and  unconquerable  in  publishing  the  resurrection 
ol  Jesus.  Is  it  conceivable,  that  Human  Nature  must  not 
have  been  tired  out  with  going  on  day  after  day,  and  year 
after  year,  for  a  whole  iife-time,  propagating  a  known 
falsehood,  by  which  they  were  to  get  nothing  but  misery 
in  this  world,  and  damnation  hereafter  ? 

Deplorable  is  the  objection  started  here  by  the  opposers 
of  Christianity  ;  That  our  Saviour's  disciples  did  not  see 
him  rise  ;  As  if  it  were  of  any  consequence  to  the  certain- 
tv  of  his  bein«:  reallv  alive  a<^ain,  that  no  one  saw  him 
come  out  of  his  tomb.  That  he  was  certainly  dead  is 
unquestionable  ;  he  having  been  publickly  crucified,  and 
stabbed  in  the  side  with  a  spear  as  he  hung  on  the  cross. 
And  that  he  was  certainly  alive  again,  was  as  unquestion- 
able to  those  who  conversed  with  him  for  six  weeks  to- 
gether, after  his  passion,  as  if  they  had  been  witnesses  of 
his  rising.  And  that  he  did  not  show  himself  to  the  peo- 
ple (who  deserved  no  such  favour)  but  only  to  chosen  wit- 
nesses, is  an  objection  as  wretched  as  the  former  ;  the  only 
question,  being,  Whether  the  witnesses  who  declare  that 
Christ  was  alive  after  his  crucifixion,  are  credible  or  not. 
But  to  proceed  : 

That  a  person  of  the  conspicuous  and  extraordinary 


t)F  REVEALED  RELIGION.  50$ 

Abilities  of  St.  Paul,  should  be  drawn  into  such  a  course 
of  extravagance  as  to  travel  thousands  of  miles,  propagat- 
ing every  where,  an  idle  fiction  of  his  having  had  a  vision 
of  Christ,  and  being  commissioned  by  him  to  preach  his 
religion  over  the  world :  That  a  man  of  his  learning;  and 
judgment  should  publicly  declare  to  the  world  his  full  per- 
suasion of  the  truth  of  a  doctrine  decried  by  almost  all  the 
worldly-wise  of  those  times  :  That  he  should  own  himself 
to  have  been  formerly  in  the  wrong  in  opposing  Christian- 
ity :  That  he  should  take  public  shame  to  himself  before 
all  mankind,  and  commit  his  recantation  to  writing,  to  stand 
on  record  as  long  as  the  wond  lasted.  What  a  degree  of 
madness  or  fascination,  must  that  have  been,  which  would 
have  been  equal  to  all  these  effects  ?  But  what  sort  of  mad- 
ness or  fascination  must  that  have  been,  which  could  come 
to  such  a  height,  and  not  have  wholly  incapacitated  the  apos- 
tle for  every  thing  consistent  with  common  sense  and  dis- 
cretion ?  Yet  we  find  the  works  of  this  illustrious  propaga- 
tor of  Christianity,  considered  only  in  a  critical  light,  are,  to 
say  the  least,  equal  to  those  of  the  greatest  geniuses,  and 
best  reasoners  of  antiquity  ;  and  himself  by  heathen  writers 
celebrated  as  a  person  of  superior  abilities.  And  that  nei- 
ther our  Saviour  nor  his  apostles  were  in  their  own  times 
taken  for  enthusiasts  or  phrenetics,  is  plain  from  The  treat- 
ment they  met  with :  For  persecution  was  never,  that  I  know 
of,  thought  a  proper  way  of  proceeding  against  such  unhap- 
py persons  as  had  lost  the  use  of  their  reason.  That  either 
the  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  the  other  propagators  of 
Christianity,  or  its  glorious  Author  himself,  were  persons 
deficient  in  the  use  of  their  faculties,  will  appear  too  ludi- 
crous to  require  a  grave  answer,  if  it  be  only  remembered, 
that  it  is  the  very  character  of  madness  to  start  from  one  rev- 
erie to  another,  and  to  be  incapable  of  all  regularity  or  stea- 
diness of  design.  For  a  number  of  persons  to  be  possessed 
with  the  same  species  of  madness,  that  they  should  act  in 
concert,  and  carry  on  a  complicated  and  stupendous  scheme 
for  a  long  course  of  years  ;  that  they  should  do  what  all  the 
learned  and  wise  never  could  do  ;  that  they  should  out -wit 
the  whole  world,  or  rather,  that  they  should  reform  and  im- 
prove the  world  ;  to  allege  the  probability  of  all  this,  would 
be  insulting  the  common  sense  of  mankind. 

Nor  has  the  supposition  of  the  apostles'  being  wilful  im- 

3  S 


506  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

postors  any  more  hold  of  reason  or  probability,  than  that 
of  their  being  enthusiasts  or  lunatics.  For  it  is  evident, 
as  already  observed,  that  the  religion  they  have  established 
in  the  world  is  no  scheme  for  imposing  upon  mankind,  nor 
at  all  calculated  to  deceive.  Christianity,  as  it  stands  in 
the  apostolic  writings,  is  manifestly  a  scheme  for  opening 
the  eyes  of  mankind,  not  for  blinding  their  understandings; 
for  improving,  not  confounding  human  reason  ;  for  remov- 
ing, not  riveting  prejudice.  And  it  is  given  with  all  that 
unadorned  and  artless  simplicity  which  distinguishes  truth 
from  imposture.  Nor  can  the  least  surmise  or  suspicion 
of  any  indirect  design  be  fastened  upon  them.  No  scheme 
for  aggrandizing  themselves.  Their  ambitious  views  van- 
ished at  the  death  of  their  Master.  And  from  the  time  of 
his  ascension,  we  see  their  whole  conduct  and  behaviour 
wholly  disengaged  from,  and  superior  to  all  worldly  de- 
signs. We  see  them  disclaiming  riches,  honours  and  plea- 
sure, and  teaching  their  followers  to  aspire  only  after  future 
glory,  honour  and  immortality,  and  to  trample  under  their 
feet  the  vain  amusements  of  the  present  short  and  perish- 
ing life.  The  accounts  they  have  left  of  their  own  errors 
and  weaknesses,  suit  very  ill  with  a  scheme  to  impose  on 
mankind.  The  dispute,  which  we  know  arose  between 
them,  must  have  discovered  the  plot,  if  there  had  been  one. 
For  it  is  evident,  that  they  did  not  spare  one  another,  and 
that  they  have  not  at  all  softened  things  in  the  accounts 
they  have  left  on  record  of  the  differences  which  arose  be- 
tween them.  Their  accusation  of  their  countrymen,  and 
their  defying,  in  the  most  public  manner,  their  most  in- 
veterate enemies  to  lay  any  thing  justly  to  their  charge, 
what  are  the  genuine  marks  of  integrity  and  simplicity  of 
intention,,  if  these  are  not  ? 

There  is  indeed  no  argument  for  the  truth  of  Christianity 
more  irresistible  than  the  character  and  conduct  of  its  first 
propagators,  and  especially  of  its  glorious  author.  No 
human  sagacity  could,  from  mere  invention,  have  put  to- 
gether a  fictitious  account  of  the  behaviour  of  a  person,  in 
soman)'  strange  and  uncommon  particulars,  as  the  evangel- 
ists have  told  us  of  our  Saviour,  without  either  swelling  up 
the  imaginary  character  into  that  of  the  hero  of  a  romance, 
or  drawing  it  defaced  with  faults  and  blemishes.  That 
human  invention  is  by  no  means  equal  to  any  such  task, 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  507 

is  evident  from  the  success  of  the'  attempts  which  have 
been  made  by  the  greatest  masters  of  description  to  draw 
perfect  characters,  especially  where  any  thing  supernatural 
was  to  have  a  place.  And  that  such  a  character,  as  that 
of  our  Saviour,  should  be  drawn  so  uniform  and  consist- 
ent, at  the  same  time  that  it  is  so  wholly  new  and  peculiar, 
that  in  all  the  histories,  and  all  the  epic  poems  in  the  world, 
there  is  no  pattern  from  whence  the  least  hint  could  be 
taken  to  form  it  by  ;  that  this  character,  in  which  the 
greatness  is  of  so  extraordinary  and  stupendous  a  kind* 
that  whatever  is  great  in  those  of  warriors,  or  heroes,  or 
kings,  is  despised  and  neglected  by  him,  and  infinitely  be- 
neath him;  that  such  a  character  should  be  the  invention 
of  a  few  illiterate  men,  and  'hat  it  should  by  them  be  ex- 
hibited, not  by  studied  encomiums,  but  by  a  bare  unadorn- 
ed narration  of  facts,  but  such  facts  as  are  no  where  else  to 
be  equalled  ;  he  who  can  believe  that  all  this  could  be  the 
effect  of  mere  human  invention,  without  superior  interpo- 
sition, must  be  capable  of  believing  any  thing.  So  that  I 
may  defy  all  the  opposers  of  revelation  to  answer  this  ques- 
tion. How  we  came  to  have  such  a  character  as  that  of 
Christ,  drawn  as  it  is,  and  drawn  by  such  authors,  if  it  was 
not  taken  from  a  real  original,  and  if  that  original  was  not 
something  above  human  ? 

I  do  not  think  it  would  be  a  hard  matter  to  write  a  vo- 
lume upon  this  subject,  without  treading  much  in  the  foot- 
steps of  those  who  have  writ  upon,  the  life  of  Christ.  But 
without  considering  at  present  what  has,  or  has  not,  been 
said  by  others,  I  shall  only  desire  the  reader  to  peruse 
carefully  the  evangelical  history  ;  (with  what  helps  may  be 
necessary)  attending,  as  he  goes  through  the  account  of 
the  words  and  actions  of  our  Saviour,  to  the  disposition,  and 
genius  of  spirit,  which  shines;  throughout  the  whole.  Let 
him  consider  the  tender  compassion  and  love  for  a  race  of 
perverse,  self-destroyed  creatures,  which  must  have  prompt- 
ed this  glorious  Being  to  condescend  thus  low  to  instruct 
and  save  them  from  vice  and  its  dreadful  consequences. 
At  the  same  time,  let  the  wisdom  he  showed  in  doing  so  be 
considered ;  since  nothing  conceivable  is  of  greater  import- 
ance, or  more  worthy  of  a  Being  of  the  highest  dignity, 
than  the  recovery  of  a  species,  otherwise  lost  and  undone, 
to  virtue  and  endless  happiness.     Let  the  prudence  and 


508  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

judgment  of  the  Divine  instructor  be  attentively  consider- 
ed.    How  eiis\  had  it  been  for  him,  in  whom  art  hid  all 
the  treasures  of  wisdom,  tohave  given  forth  his  instructions 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  have  overpowered  all  human  under- 
standing ?  How  hard  do  we  see  it  is  for  men  of  superior 
learning  to  adapt  their  lessons  to  the  capacities  of  the  young 
and  ignorant  ?  How  irksome  to  most  men,  the  employment 
of  teaching?  How  few  teachers  are  there  who  can  avoid 
showing  some  affectation  of  their  superiority   in  knowl- 
edge? Who  could  have  expected,  that  ever  he,  who  was 
the  instrument  of  God  in  making  this  world,  whose  Divine 
penetration  saw  by  intuition  through  all  the  depths  of  sci- 
ence, which  a  Ktrwton  could  only  collect  by  laborious  in- 
quiry, by  accurate  calculation,  and  distant  analogy,  that  one 
c  pable  of  instructing  the    most   enlightened  archangel, 
should  condescend  to  initiate  in  first  principles  a  multitude 
of  ignorant,  illiterate  mortals.     "  Blessed  are  the  humble, 
the  meek,  the  merciful.'"     Here  is  no  affectation  of  mystic 
learning  ;  no  pompous  ostentation  of  profound  science,  no 
nice  distinction  of  speculative  points.      And  yet,  when  all 
is  duly  considered,  it  was  no  more  derogation  from  the  dig- 
nity of  a  teacher,  capable  of  instructing  angels,  to  condes- 
cend to  live  to  those,  who  may  hereafter  come  to  be  com- 
panions of  angels,  the  first  principles  of  virtue,  which  is  the 
oniy  rue  wisdom,  than  for  a  philosopher  to  teach  his  son 
the  first  rudiments  of  learning.     Then  how  wisely  does  he 
suit  his  instructions  both  to  the  capacities  and  dispositions 
of  his  hearers  !  Parableand  allegory  have  ever  been  thought 
the  most  entertaining  manner  of  communicating  instruc- 
tion.     The  severity  of  the  precept  is  lost  in  the  entertain- 
ment of  the  fable.     The  sensible  image  reflects  a  light  up- 
on the  moral  thought,  and  the  abstract  thought  gives  an 
importance  to  the  sensible  representation.     By  apt  simili- 
tude, therefore,  and  allegories  drawn  from  the  surrounding 
objects,  did  this  great  teacher  recommend  to  his  hearers  the 
Vjkoat  solemn  truths  and  important  precepts.     The  honest 
and  teachable  mind  w  as  thus  allured  tosearch  after  Divine 
knowledge  ;   while  the  proud  and  obstinate  scorned  the 
trouble  of  inquiring  into  the  easy  meaning  of  the   figures 
qsed  by  him.     Thus  did  his  instructions  become  what  all 
addresses  to  free  and  reasoning  beings  ought,  a  part  of  trial 
and  discipline.     So   that  they  who  were  well  disposed 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  509 

might  receive  improvement  and  advantage,  and  the  hard- 
hearted might  hear  and  not  understand. 

With  what  graceful  ease,  and  yet  solemn  composure, 
does  he  accommodate  himself  to  the  conversation  of  all 
sorts  of  persons!  Among  the  wise  and  learned,,  how  does 
he  shine  in  communicating  clear  and  important  truth,  con- 
futing their  artificial  sophisms,  and  silencing  their  malicious 
cavils  !  among  the  illiterate,  how  does  he  condescend  to 
the  meanness  of  their  understandings,  and  adapt  his  instruc- 
tions to  their  apprehension,  and  usual  train  of  thinking, 
raising  his  reflections  from  the  present  objects,  and  im- 
proving upon  the  most  common  occasions!  even  women 
and  children  are  taken  notice  of  by  this  wisest  of  teachers: 
and  with  reason.  For  no  well  disposed  human  mind  is  of 
litrle  consequence  :  whatever  it  is  at  present,  it  is  in  the 
wav  to  be  hereafter  greai  and  giorious.  The  character,  in 
short,  which  the  Saviour  of  the  world  assumed,  seems  to 
have  been  equally  sublime  and  amiable. 

How  does  his  wisdom,  and  'he  dignity  of  his  character, 
appear  in  his  discouraging  ail  idle  curiosity,  which  enga- 
ges the  mind  unprofitable,  and  takes  offits  attention  from 
the  awful  business  for  which  we  were  sent  into  the  world  ;  at 
the  same  time  that  he  fails  not  to  answer  any  useful  question 
that  is  put  to  him  ;  and  ever  turns  the  attention  to  some- 
thing great,  and  worthy  of  a  Divine  instructor  to  dwell 
upon  ! 

How  different  his  manner  of  communicating  instruction 
from  the  dictates  of  the  artful  impostor  or  wild  enthusiast! 
Instead  of  threatening  with  fire  and  sword  the  opposers  of 
Divine  truth,  he  kindly  forewarns  them  of  the  natural  and 
judicial  effects  of  their  impious  obstinacy  and  malice.  In- 
stead of  thundering  out  spiritual  anathemas  or  excommu- 
nications against  those  who  would  not  take  his  religion  on 
trust ;  instead  of  depriving  them  of  the  temporal  advan- 
tages, to  which  every  peaceable  subject  has  an  unques- 
tionable right ;  instead  of  employing  the  secular  arm  to 
decide  in  matters  of  conscience,  where  civil  power  has  no 
right  to  interpose  ;  instead  of  setting  the  world  in  a  flame 
about  mere  speculative  opinions,  and  doubtful  doctrines, 
this  Divine  Teacher  applies  himself  to  mankind,  as  one 
who  understood  mankind.  He  addresses  himself  to  their 
reason.     He  calls  upon  them  to  exert  their  understanding. 


510  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

He  does  not  insist  upon  their  believing  him  on  his  own  as- 
sertion, ihough  he  might  have  done  so,  on  a  much  better 
pretence,  than  thepurest  church,  the  most  numerous  coun- 
cil, or  the  infallible  Bishop  of  Rome  himself.  He  claims  no 
implicit  aythority  over  their  faith;  but  appeals  to  the  works 
which  thv  y  saw  him  perform,  and  to  the  prophecies  of  their 
own  scrip l  ures,  which  they  saw  fulfilled  in  him.  The  doc- 
trines, he  dwells  upon,  and  labours  to  inculcate,  are  the 
great  and  important  points  of  morality,  the  duties  of  love  to 
God,  and  benevolence  to  man  ;  the  heavenly  virtues  of  sin- 
cerity, self-denial,  contempt  of  a  vain  world,  humility, 
meekness,  and  the  other  excellent  graces,  which  make  the 
only  true  ornament  of  the  human  mind,  which  have  a  natu- 
ral tendency  to  qualify  it  for  the  society  of  all  well-disposed 
beings  in  the  universe.  Is  not  this  the  very  doctrine,  are 
not  these  the  very  precepts,  which  one  would  expect  the 
messenger  of  God  to  mankind  to  teach  and  inculcate  ?  The 
perverse,  or  vicious  opposer  of  religion  may  cavil  aslongas 
he  will;  but  I  think  myseif  safe  in  venturing  the  cause  I 
defend  upon  the  sense  of  every  well-disposed  mind ;  to 
which  I  dare  appeal,  Whether  it  does  not  feel  the  Divine 
authority  of  this  heavenly  Teacher,  in  the  excellence  of 
his  doctrines  and  precepts  ?  But  to  proceed  : 

How  patiently  does  he  bear  frith  the  mean  and  groveling 
ideas  hiss  disciples  had  at  first  of  the  character  in  which  the 
Messiah  ought  to  appear!  How  kindly  does  he  overlook 
their  weakness,  infixing  all  their  desires  on  worldly  gran- 
deur !  What  pity  does  he  show  for  the  unhappy  uninstruct- 
ed  part  of  the  people,  the  publicans  and  sinners !  How 
does  he  show  himself  ready  to  pardon,  though  by  no  means 
to  justify,  the  offences,  which  proceed  from  the  unthink- 
ing indulgence  of  passion  and  appetite,  while  he  denoun- 
ces woes  upon  the  hardened  and  hypocritical  sinner ! 
Wonderful!  that  he,  who  himself  knew  no  fault,  should 
thus  bear  with  the  faults  of  wretched  mortals  ;  while  they, 
though  all  guiity  before  God,  find  it  so  hard  to  bear  with 
one  another. 

With  what  open  generosity  does  he  bestow  the  highest 
encomium  that  can  be  deserved  by  mortal  man,  on  one 
who  had  just  before  treated  him  and  his  pretensions  in  a 
very  slighting  manner.  I  mean  Nathaniel,  who,  upon 
Philip's  informing  him,  that  the  miracles  performed  by 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  511 

Jesus  of  Nazareth,  gave  ground  to  conclude,  that  he  was 
the  Christ,  of  whose  appearance  there  was  then  a  general 
expectation.  "  What,"  says  that  weak  and  narrow-minded 
man,  "  do  you  expect  the  Messiah  to  come  from  so  con- 
temptible a  place  as  "  Nazareth  '?"  Yet  when,  at  the  desire 
of  Philip,  he  is  prevailed  upon  to  go  and  see  him  ;  as  soon 
as  he  appears,  with  what  unreserved  openness  does  He, 
who  knew  all  that  was  in  man,  overlook  his  prejudice,  and 
celebrate  him  as  a  pattern  of  truth  and  sincerity  of  heart! 
How  different  from  this  is  the  conduct  of  peevish  mortals ! 
Does  one  hear  the  least  surmise  of  a  reflection  supposed  to 
have  been  cast  upon  him  by  another !  How  hard  does  he 
find  it  to  forgive  the  mortal  injury;  how  few  can  ever  bring 
themselves  heartily  to  love  those  who  have  taken  the  small- 
est liberty  of  this  kind  ! 

Excepting  two  of  Christ's  miracles,  one  of  which  it  is 
needless  to  mention  at  present,  its  effect  being  of  no  mate- 
rial consequence  at  all,  but  as  an  emblem  of  the  future 
destruction  of  the  Jews,  and  the  other  was  a  just  punish- 
ment on  the  sufferers  ;  the  direct  tendency  of  all  of  them 
was  kind  and  beneficial,  and  suitable  to  the  character  of  the 
Saviour  of  the  World,  who  came  to  deliver  mankind  from 
vice  and  misery.  What  blessings  might  not  be  expected 
from  one,  whose  appearance  in  the  world  was  signalized 
not  by  vain  triumphs,  and  honorary  gifts ;  but  who  ex- 
pressed his  goodness  to  mankind  in  giving  food  to  the 
hungry,  sight  to  the  blind,  health  to  the  diseased,  the  use 
of  reason  to  the  distracted  and  possessed,  pardon  to  the 
wounded  conscience,  heavenly  knowledge  to  the  unenlight- 
ened mind,  and  the  prospect  of  endless  happiness  to  the 
anxious  and  doubtful? 

When  his  perverse  enemies,  with  a  degree  of  impiety 
never  equalled  before  or  since,  accused  the  best  of  charac- 
ters of  the  worst  of  crimes  ;  alleging  that  he,  who  came, 
to  destroy  the  kingdom  of  Satan,  was  guilty  of  a  collusion 
with  Satan  ;  thus  effectually  defeating  the  highest  and 
most  powerful  means  of  conviction  and  reformation,  that 
could  be  offered  to  free  and  rational  agents ;  how  does  he 
receive  their  impious  accusations  ?  Not  with  a  deadly 
stroke  from  that  hand,  which  could  wield  all  the  thunder 
ofneaven;  but  with  a  calm  remonstrance  on  the  absurdity 


512  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

of"  their  accusation,  the  greatness  of  their  crime,  and  the 
fearful  vengeance  they  were  drawing;  upon  themselves. 

What  sup<  riur  sagacity  does  he  show  in  defeating  the 
artful  and  ensnaring  questions  put  to  him  by  the  crafty 
and  the  learned !  How  does  he  answer  not  only  to  men's 
words;  but  to  duir  thoughts,  and  designs  !  Let  the  con- 
versation between  him  and  Nicodemus  be  an  example 
among  many.  Of  which  the  following  short  account  will 
serve  to  illustrate  this  observation,  which  is  highly  neces- 
sary to  be  attended  to,  in  order  to  enter  into  the  beauty 
and  propriety  of  many  of  our  Saviour's  discourses  and 
answers. 

This  Teacher  and  Ruler  of  the  Jews  having  secretly 
some  opinion  of  our  Saviour  as  a  Prophet,  and  desiring 
to  have  some  particular  conversation  with  him,  goes  to 
him  in  the  night,  to  avoid  giving  umbrage  to  his  fcliow- 
doctors;  being  unwilling  to  be  suspected  of  any  inclina- 
tion to  dissent  from  the  established  and  fashionable  opin- 
ions. He  besrins  with  acknowledging;  the  realitv  and  the 
greatness  of  the  miraculous  works  performed  by  him.  To 
which  compliment  our  Saviour  returns  an  answer,  which 
seems  very  abrupt ;  but  is  exactly  suited  to  the  character 
and  design  of  Nicodemus.     The  sense  of  it  is  as  follows : 

"I  understand  what  you  mean  by  coming  to  me  thus 
privately.  But  that  you  may  at  once  be  able  to  judge  of 
the  doctrine,  which  I  teach,  to  see  how  unsuitable  it  is  to 
all  manner  of  worldly  views,  and  may  not  be  deceived  into 
an  opinion  of  your  being  of  a  character  and  temper  fit  to 
be  a  disciple  of  mine  ;  I  tell  you  at  once,  That,  as  the  bulk 
of  mankind  are,  it  is  necessary  for  one  who  would  enter 
upon  the  profession  of  the  pure  and  spiritual  religion, 
which  1  am  come  into  the  world  to  teach  mankind,  to  be 
as  much  changed  in  his  disposition  and  practice,  as  if  he 
was  to  be  new  born." 

Nicodemus,  not  expecting  our  Saviour  to  answer  to  his 
thoughts,  puts  a  very  absurd  construction  upon  his  words. 
Our  Saviour  condescends  to  explain  the  metaphor  he  had 
used,  and  to  inform  Nicodemus,  that  he  meant  it  in  a  spi- 
ritual and  emblematical,  not  a  literal  sense.  He  then  goes 
on  to  the  following  purpose : 

"  If  you  mean  to  enter  upon  the  spiritual  religion,  which 
I  teach,  you  must,  not  be  surprised,  that  I  lay  the  founda- 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  513' 

tion  of  my  doctrine,  not  in  a  set  of  new  ceremonies  and 
outward  observances,  but  in  a  total  change  of  heart  and 
life.  For  you  must  resolve  upon  giving  up  your  present 
secular  schemes,  and  becoming  indifferent  to  all  worldly 
pursuits,  when  they  come  in  competition  with  real  internal 
goodness." 

He  afterwards  gives  Nicodemus  some  account  of  his  mis- 
sion, and  design  in  coming  into  the  world  :  and  concludes 
with  condemning  the  obstinacy  and  carnality  of  the  people 
and  of  Nicodemus  himself  among  the  rest,  and  shows,  that 
his  and  their  prejudices  in  favour  of  their  errors,  and  attach- 
ment to  their  vices,  were  the  cause  of  their  opposition  to 
his  pure  and  spiritual  doctrine.  Nicodemus  being  only  a 
little  more  inquisitive,  and  having  a  little  more  candour  in  his 
disposition,  than  the  rest  of  the  Jewish  doctors  ;  but  not 
enough  to  carry  through  all  difficulties  and  trials,  is  treated 
thus  plainly  and  roughly  by  him,  who  exactly  knew  what 
was  in  every  man,  and  not  finding  the  religion  of  Jesus  to 
his  mind,  leaves  him  and  returns  to  his  former  profession, 
without  having  any  good  effect  wrought  upon  him  by  the 
conversation,  that  we  know  of,  except  that  he  seems,  by 
one  instance  in  the  sequel  of  the  history,  to  be  more  inclin- 
able to  favour  him  than  the  rest  of  his  fraternity.  A  char- 
acter, this  of  Nicodemus,  fatally  common  among  Christians. 
To  be  in  the  way  toward  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  yett 
through  a  defect  of  some  one  necessary  virtue,  or  a  fatal 
attachment  to  some  one  favourite  vice,  to  come  short  of  it 
at  last. 

To  return,  How  ready  is  he  to  find  an  excuse  for  the 
unpardonable  stupidity  of  his  disciples,  in  suffering  them- 
selves the  last  time  they  were  to  enjoy  his  company  before 
his  death,  to  be  overcome  with  sleep,  while  they  saw  the 
anguish  their  Master  was  in,  which,  in  a  Being  of  his 
power  and  intrepidity,  might  justly  have  alarmed  them  with 
the  expectation  of  somewhat  to  the  highest  degree  terrible 
and  shocking !  And  irood  reason  there  is  to  conclude,  that 
the  approach  of  death  was  not  all  that  produced  in  him 
those  dreadful  emotions  of  horror  and  amazement.  Does 
he  not  suffer  the  traitor  himself  to  follow  him  for  several 
years  to  partake  of  his  counsels,  to  hear  his  Divine  doc- 
trine ?  Does  he  not  forewarn  him  of  the  wickedness  he 
had  in  his  neart,  and  give  him  all  advantage  for  relenting  ? 

3  T 


514  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

'Even  when  he  advances  to  betray  his  Lord  with  a  treach- 
erous embrace,  does  he  strike  him  dead  with  a  word  ? 
Though  they  all  make  their  escape,  and  leave  him  in  his 
extremity,  does  he  punish  or  even  reproach  them,  after 
his  resurrection,  for  their  unfaithfulness  to  him,  for  whom 
they  ought  to  have  laid  down  their  lives,  who  came  to  lay 
down  his  life  for  them  ? 

Let  the  noble  and  heroic  behaviour  of  the  Prince  of 
Peaoe,  toward  his  wicked  and  implacable  enemies,  be 
coibidered.  How  does  he  show  himself  above  their  ut- 
most malice !  Does  he  not  go  on  still  in  his  calm  dignity, 
and  equal  goodness,  in  spite  of  their  utmost  fury,  till  he 
has  finished  his  ministry,  and  the  time  comes  for  him  to 
return  to  the  state  of  happiness  and  glory  he  had  left  ?  When 
their  hour  and  the  power  of  darkness  prevails,  with  what 
meekness  does  he  give  himself  up  into  their  cruel  hands  I 
When  they  come  to  apprehend  him,  and  struck  with  the 
majesty  which  surrounded  him,  fly  back  and  fall  before  him 
to  the  ground,  he  exerts  no  vindictive  power  against  them, 
though  he  could  with  a  word  have  struck  them  so  as  they 
should  have  risen  no  more,  and  could  have  called  legions 
of  angels,  who  would  have  thought  it  their  honour  to  have 
been  commanded  to  interpose  for  his  deliverance.  But 
though  he  wrought  a  miracle  to  avoid  regal  power,he  works 
none  to  escape  an  infamous  death. 

Behold  the  innocent  arraigned  before  the  guilty !  The 
most  amiable  of  characters  treated  worse  than  the  most 
odious  deservers  at  any  human  hands.  The  future  Judge 
of  Mankind  brought  before  a  human  tribunal.  He  who 
did  no  sin,  and  in  whose  mouth  was  found  no  guile,  sen- 
tenced to  die,  and  a  robber  and  murderer  pardoned.  They, 
for  whom  the  Saviour  of  the  World  came  from  heaven  to 
give  his  precious  life,  long  to  imbrue  their  hands  in  the 
very  blood,  which  was  to  be  shed  for  them.  O  the  dia- 
bolical fury  of  hypocrisy  detected!  Crucify  him;  crucify 
him  !  cry  the  bloody  Priests,  and  the  blinded  people  echo 
back  the  maddening  voice.  But  will  the  Lord  of  life  suf- 
fer himself  to  be  spoiled  of  life  by  a  set  of  miserable  worms, 
whom  he  can  crush  to  nothing  in  a  moment  ?  No.  He  lays 
it  down  of  himself;  no  man  takes,  or  can  take  it  from  him. 
He  came  to  lay  down  his  life  for  the  life  of  the  world. 
And  if  daring  mortals  will  be  so  impious  as  to  stretch 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.     '  51$ 

forth  unhallowed  hands  against  him,  the  decree  of  heaven 
will  nevertheless  be  fulfilled,  and  they,  who  will  heap  dam- 
nation upon  themselves,  shall  be  left  to  the  destruction 
they  have  sought.  Yet  hold  your  butchering  hands, 
unthinking  wretches.  Or  if  his  sacred  blood  must  stream 
to  wash  a  sinful  world  from  guilt ;  let  the  High  Priest  with 
reverence  offer  him  on  the  altar,  the  true,  the  last,  the  only 
effectual  sacrifice  for  sin.  So  shall  you,  and  your  nation, 
escape  the  destruction  which  hangs  over  you. — They  har- 
den their  rocky  hearts  against  all  sense  of  pity.  They 
urge  their  own  destruction.  Let  not  then  the  eye  of  day 
behold  so  black  a  deed.  Let  heaven  hide  its  face  from 
such  a  sight.  They  pierce  those  hands  whose  salutary 
touch  gave  health  and  strength,  and  those  feet  which  went 
about  doing  good.  They  stretch  him  on  the  cross.  They 
stop  their  ears  against  the  groans  of  suffering  innocence. 
But  the  inanimate  earth  feels,  and  shakes  with  horror  at 
the  impiety  of  her  inhabitants.  The  rocks  burst  in  pieces, 
and  nature  is  in  agonies*  The  sleep  of  death  is  broken 
by  the  convulsion.  The  graves  open  their  throats,  and 
cast  up  the  ghastly  dead.  An  unseen  hand  rends  the 
veil  of  the  temple,  and  exposes  the  holy  place,  into  which 
it  was  forbidden  to  enter.  His  agonies  now  grow  stronger. 
His  pangs  redouble.  The  choirs  of  angels  mourn  the 
sufferings  of  their  Prince.  Hell  is  moved,  and  the  dae- 
mons enjoy  a  short  triumph.  Darkness  covers  the  face 
of  nature,  and  chaos  seems  ready  to  swallow  alL  He  calls 
on  his  God  and  Father,  the  witness  of  his  innocence,  and 
approver  of  his  obedience.  He  prays  for  those  by  whose 
murdering  hands  he  dies.  He  raises  his  voice  aloud. 
His  strength  is  yet  entire.  But  having  finished  the  work, 
and  the  prophecies  being  accomplished,  by  his  own  origi- 
nal power  over  his  own  life,  he  resigns  his  soul  into  the  hands 
of  the  Supreme  Father  of  All,  and,  bowing  his  head,  ex- 
pires. He  dies  ;  and  yet  his  murderers  live.  His  death 
raises  a  guilty  world  to  life.  Tremendous  mystery !  Not  to 
beexplained,  tilithe  veil  of  time  be  rentasunder,  and  eternity 
exposes  to  view  the  amazing  scene  of  Divine  Government, 
too  vast  for  mortal  comprehension.  Glory  to  God  in  the 
highest J.  On  earth  peace,  and  good- will  towards  meni 


CONCLUSION. 


A 


T  last  I  have  in  great  weakness,  brought  this  long  labour 
to  a  period.  On  reviewing  the  whole,  I  find  it  very  neces- 
sary to  beg  the  candid  Reader's  indulgence  in  favour  of 
many  deficiencies  ;  though  I  hope  he  has  not  found  in  the 
Work,  any  one  sentiment,  by  which  he  may  have  run  the 
hazard  of  his  being  deceived  or  misled  to  his  hurt.  Who- 
ever duly  considers  the  disadvantage  a  writer  labours 
under,,  who  lives  a  life  of  constant  care  and  labour,  with- 
out ever  knowing  what  it  is  to  have  a  vacant  mind,  and 
whose  hours  of  study  are  only  those  few,  which  remain 
after  eight  or  ten  of  almost  every  day  in  the  week  indis- 
pensably engaged  in  the  laborious  employment  of  teach- 
ing, and  the  other  cares  attending  the  charge  of  youth ; 
whoever  considers  this,  and  is,  at  the  same  time,  at  all  a 
judge  of  the  difficulty  of  composition  ;  will,  it  is  hoped,  be 
inclinable  to  make  allowances  for  any  deficiencies,  which 
may  at  all  be  pardonable.  It  may  indeed  be  answered 
to  this,  That  a  person,  whose  way  of  life  (exclusive  of 
other  disadvantage:)  necessarily  deprives  him  of  that  lei- 
sure and  vacancy  of  mind  which  are  of  such  consequence 
to  a  writer,  had  better  quit  that  province  to  those,  whose 
stations  allow  them  more  leisure  and  freedom  from  care. 
Perhaps  this  assertion  may  be  in  some  measure  just.  And 
yet  the  gentlemen,  who  undertake  the  education  of  youth, 
do  not  in  general  scruple  to  bestow  sometime  in  labouring 
for  the  public.  The  pious  and  learned  Dr.  Doddridge,  lately 
deceased,  is  a  remarkable  instance;  who  so  husbanded  the 
hours  he  chiefly  borrowed  from  the  refreshments  of  nature 
as  to  be  able  to  publish  six  or  eight  times  the  bulk  of  this 
book.  For  my  own  part,  had  my  circumstances  in  life 
been  equal  to  the  expence  of  printing  this  work,  which 
never  had  been  undertaken,  if  it  had  not  been  with  a  direct 
view  to  the  advantage  of  the  youth  educated  by  me,  who, 
I  hope,  will  find  it  useful  as  an  introduction  to  life,  to  study, 
and  to  moral  and  religious  knowledge  ;  had  my  circum- 
stances, I  say,  been  equal  to  the  expence  of  printing  this 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  5iy 

book,  and  giving  it  them  gratis  ;  I  should  not  have  trou- 
bled the  public  with  it ;  nor  do  I  intend  ever  more  to  un- 
dertake any  work  of  such  a  size. 

And  now,  before  I  lay  aside  my  pen,  I  beg  leave  ear- 
nestly to  request  the  reader,  and  especially,  above  all  oth  rs, 
those  for  whose  sake  this  work  was  undertaken,  to  attend 
carefully  to  the  few  following  serious  remonstrances.  If 
the  Reader  has  persued  the  whole  work,  without  recei- 
ving am  benefit  or  improvement  from  it  he  may  profit  by 
what  still  remains,  by  seriously  examining  himself  in  the 
following  manner. 

"  Hast  thou  considered,  O  my  soul,  what  thou  art,  and 
for  what  created?  Dost  thou  habitually  think  of  thyself 
as  an  intelligence  capable  of  immortality,  and  brought  in- 
to being  on  purpose  for  endless  and  inconceivable  happi- 
ness ?  Does  the  thought  of  an  hereafter  engage  thy  su- 
preme attention  ?  Is  eternity  for  ever  in  thy  view  ?  Dost 
thou  faithfully  labour,  wish,  and  pray,  for  the  necessary 
abilities  and  dispositions  for  acting  up  to  the  dignity  of 
thy  nature,  and  the  end  of  thy  creation  ?  Or  dost  thou 
trifle  with  what  is  to  thee  of  infinite  importance  ?  Thou 
wouidest  not  surely  suffer  thyself  to  be  deceived  out  of 
thy  happiness!  Thou  wouidest  not  put  out  the  eye  of  thy 
reason,  and  rush  headlong  upon  destruction?  Try  thy 
prudence  and  sincerity,  then,  by  comparing  the  diligence 
thou  usest,  and  the  care  thou  bestowest,  upon  the  things 
thou  knowest  thyself  to  be  sincerely  attached  to,  with  what 
thou  thinkest  sufficient  for  securing  an  eternity  of  happi- 
iess.  Dost  thou  rise  early  and  sit  up  late,  to  get  a  wretch- 
ed pittance  of  the  perishing  wealth  of  this  world  ?  And 
dost  thou  wholly  forget  that  thou  hast  an  eternity  to  pro- 
vide for  ?  Is  money  thy  first  thought  in  the  morning,  and 
thy  last  at  night,  and  the  subject  of  every  hour  between? 
And  canst  thou  find  no  vacant  moment  for  a  thought 
about  thy  great  interest?  Art  thou  ever  ready,  and  upon 
the  catch,  to  seize  the  empty  bubbles  of  life,  as  they  float 
along  the  stream  of  time  ?  And  dost  thou  let  slip  the  only 
opportunity  for  making  provision  for  futurity  ;  the  oppor- 
tunity, which  if  it  once  escapes  thee,  thou  knowest,  a  whole 
eternity  will  never  more  bring  back  ?  Dost  thou  suspect 
every  person,  and  watch  over  every  circumstance,  that 
may  any  way  affect  thy  worldly  affairs  ?  And  dost  thou 


518  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.     * 

take  up  with  any  security,  or  with  absolute  uncertainty, 
to  found  thy  prospect  of  future  happiness  upon  ?  Thou 
doat  not  count  it  prudence  to  say  to  thyself,  riches  will 
flow  in  of  themselves  ;  I  shall  of  course  rise  to  a  station 
of  honour. — And  dost  thou  think  it  wise  to  say,  God  is 
merciful;  he  will  not  punish  my  neglect  of  him,  or  my 
rebellion  against  him  :  though  both  scripture  and  reason 
show  it  to  be  impossible,  that  vice  should  in  the  end  be 
happy  ?  Or  dost  thou  pretend  to  have  found  out  a  new 
way  to  happiness !  Dost  thou  propose  to  outwit  Infinite 
wisdom  ?  Thou  canst  not  sureiy  think  of  being  happy, 
without  being  virtuous  ?  Thou  canst  not  dream  of  a  ra- 
tional creature's  coming  to  happiness  under  the  govern- 
ment of  a  Being  of  infinite  purity,  while  his  whole  nature 
is.  depraved  and  polluted  by  vice  ?  Does  any  wise  prince 
pardon  a  rebellious  subject,  while  he  continues  in  a  state 
of  rebellion  ?  Dost  thou  expect  that  the  infinitely  wise 
Governor  of  the  Universe  should,  for  love  of  thee,  new- 
model  his  august  ceconomy,  reverse  his  unchangeable  laws, 
and  take  an  enemy  to  all  good  into  his  bosom  ?  Dost  thou 
even  imagine  it  possible,  that  He,  whose  nature  is  unchange- 
ably good,  should  ever  change  so,  as  to  become  the  friend 
of  vice  ?  Hast  thou  aiv,  conception  of  the  possibility  of 
happiness  being  the  consequence  of  vice?  Canst  thou 
conceive,  that  heaven  would  be  heaven  to  a  being  whose 
faculties  were  overturned,  whose  moral  sense  was  pervert- 
ed ;  to  whose  mind  goodness  had  no  beauty  ;  to  whose 
understanding  truth  and  virtue  were  no  adequate  objects; 
who  coukl  receive  no  joy  from  the  contemplation  of  moral 
excellence  ?  Who  would  prefer  a  sensual  gratification  to 
the  beatific  vision  of  God  ?  And  dost  thou  found  thy  hopes 
of  future  happiness  upon  a  direct  impossibility  ?  Dost  thou 
abjure  thyself  of  obtaining  what  it  is  clearly  impossible 
thou  ever  shouldest  obtain,  and  what  if  thou  dost  not  ob- 
tain, thou  art  utterly  undone  ?  But  thou  sayest,  that  this 
is  not  thy  dreadful  case.  That  thou  proceedest  upon  a 
more  prudent  scheme,  in  a  matter,  upon  which  thy  all  de- 
pends. 

"  Dost  thou,  then  make  it  thy  supreme  care  to  perform 
thy  whole  duty,  without  neglecting  the  least  article  of  it, 
however  disagreeable  to  thy  temper,  or  turn  of  mind  ;  and 
to  avoid  every  vice,  every  temptation  to  every  vice,  every 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  319 

appearance  of  every  vice,  however  grateful  to  thy  depraved 
disposition?  Dost  thou  constantly  watch  over  thyself; 
dost  thou  suspect  every  other  person,  lest  his  example  or 
influence,  mislead  thee  ?  Do  thou  often,  and  regularly, 
meditate  on  thy  ways,  and  examine  thy  heart  and  thy  life  *< 
Dost  thou  perfectly  know  thy  own  weakness  ?  Hast  thou 
all  thy  infirmities  engraven  on  thy  remembrance  ?  Are  thy 
sins  ever  before  thee  ?  Dost  thou  dread  vice  more  than 
poverty,  pain,  or  death?  Dost  thou  carefully  restrain  every 
passion  and  appetite  within  due  bounds  ?  Art  thou  afraid 
of  the  fatal  allurements  of  riches,  honours,  and  pleasures? 
Dost  thou  indulge  them  sparingly?  Dost  thou  enjoy  the 
gratifications  of  sense  with  fear  and  trembling?  Art  thou 
ever  suspicious  of  thy  frail  nature,  on  this  dangerous  side? 
Dost  thou  carefully  steer  clear  of  the  rocks,  on  which  mul- 
titudes have  struck,  and  made  shipwreck  of  their  souls  ? 
Or  dost  thou,  in  insolent  confidence  of  thy  own  fancied 
strength  of  mind,  dally  with  temptation,  and  play  upon 
the  brink  of  vice  and  destruction  ?  Dost  thou  habitually 
labour  to  make  sure  of  keeping  within  bounds  ?  Dost  thou 
often  deny  thyself,  rather  than  run  the  smallest  hazard  of 
offending  ?  Dost  thou  live  such  a  life  of  temperance,  that 
thou  couldest  at  any  time  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  a  peace- 
ful mind,  and  a  good  conscience,  though  at  once  deprived 
of  all  the  gaieties  and  amusements  of  affluence  ?  Or  dost 
thou  give  thyself  up  wholly  to  ease  and  indolence  ;  to  lux- 
ury and  intemperance  ;  to  pleasure  and  folly  ?  Dost  thou 
take  thy  swing,  without  restraint  or  measure,  of  every  law- 
less enjoyment ;  as  if  the  present  state  were  never  to  come 
to  an  end  ;  as  if  thou  hadst  been  created  only  for  pleasure 
and  idleness  ;  as  if  thou  thoughtest  of  a  future  state,  not 
of  a  spiritual  existence  ;  of  perpetual  improvement  in  wis- 
dom and  goodness ;  and  of  sublime  employment  and  ac- 
tion ;  but  of  a  Mahometan  paradise,  as  an  endless  scene  of 
luxury  and  sensuality  ?  If  thou  art  in  good  earnest  resolv- 
ed to  conquer  thy  unruly  passions,  to  restrain  thy  sensual 
appetites,  and  to  regulate  the  motions  of  thy  mind  accord- 
ing to  the  dictates  of  reason  and  conscience,  and  the  m ore 
sure  directions  of  Divine  revelation,  thou  wilt  study  thyself, 
more  than  all  the  sciences  ;  thou  wilt  often  retire  within  thy- 
self;  thou  wilt  be  ever  finding  in  thy  own  mind  something 
to  regulate  and  redress;  thou  wilt  not  fly  from  thyself;  thou 


520  O?  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

wilt  not  be  continually  racking  thy  invention  to  find  out 
somewhat  to  drown  thought  and  reflection ;  thou  wilt  beg  of 
thy  friends  to  hold  up  to  thee  the  mirror  of  faithful  remon- 
strance ;  thou  wilt  not  court  the  slavish  flatterer  to  pour 
through  thy  ears  the  luscious  poison,  which  stupifies  the 
mind,  and  renders  it  insensible  of  its  own  faults,  and  blind 
to  its  own  follies.  Thou  wilt  labour  to  work  into  the  very 
essence  of  thy  soul,  the  virtues,  which  are  indispensably 
necessarv  for  bringing  and  keeping  it  under  due  regula- 
tion. Consideration,  humility,  self-knowledge,  self-rever- 
ence !  These  will  be  the  great  lessons,  which  it  will  em- 
ploy thy  life  to  learn.  And  thou  wilt  wish  for  the  life  of 
a  patriarch  to  study  them  fully  and  to  reduce  them  to  prac- 
tice. 

"Again,  dost  thou,  O  my  soul,  harbour  any  thought  of 
malice,  envy  or  revenge  against  thy  fellow. creature  ?  Dost 
thou  stand  so  little  in  awe  of  Him  who  made  thy  fellow- 
creature  and  thee,  who  will  at  last  judge   both  him  and 
thee,  and  to  whom  alone  vengeance  belongs ;  dost  thou 
fear  him  so  little,  as  to  think  of  breaking  loose  upon  his 
creature  in  his  presence  ?  Hast  thou  considered,  that,  if 
thy  Maker  do  not  show  mercy  upon  thee,  thou  hadst  bet- 
ter never  have  been  born  ?  And  dost  thou  hope  for  mercy 
from  infinite  Purity,  who  (th\  self  an  offender)  canst  think 
of  refusing  mercy  to  thy  brother  ?  Dost  thou  imagine,  that 
in  a  future  state  of  perfect  benevolence,  there  will  be  any 
place  found  forthe  sordid  mind,  whose  affections  are  shrunk 
and  contracted  to  the  narrow  circle  of  self  and  family  ?  Dost 
thou  think  there  will  be  any  happiness  for  thee  in  a  state  of 
perfect  harmony  and  love,  unless  thou  work  into  thy  very 
soul  the  god -like  virtue  of  unbounded  benevolence  ?  Thou 
canst  not  think  a  disposition  to  cruelty,  to  deceit,  to  anger, 
hatred,  or  revenge  ;  thou  canst  not  think  a  mind  given  to 
lowcraft,  to  narrow  ill-will,  or  to  sordid  selfishness,  can  be 
found  fit  for  a  state  of  happiness  founded    on  universal 
love  and  kindness  ?    Thou    canst  not  imagine  that  He, 
whose  very  nature  is  love,  will  give  happiness  to  one,  whose 
mind  is  deformed  with  angry  and  malevolent  passions. 
Thou  canst   not   expect,  that  he  will  by  giving  admit- 
tance to  one  ill-disposed  mind,  render  the  happiness  of  in- 
numerable glorified   Beings  precarious.     Nor  canst  thou 
"ven  conceive  the  possibility  of  a  mind's  being  capable  of 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  521 

happiness  which  has  not  in  itself  so  much  as  the  founda- 
tion, or  first  principle,  on  which  happiness  depends;  a  tem- 
per qualified  for  enjoying  happiness.  If  therefore  thou  hast 
any  thought  of  being  hereafter  a  member  of  that  universal 
blessed  society  of  chosen  spirits,  of  the  excellent  ones  of 
the  earth,  of  souls  formed  to  love,  and  peace,  and  harmony  ; 
thou  wilt  set  thyself  in  earnest  to  enrich  thy  mind  with  the 
heavenly  graces  of  meekness,  patience,  forbearance,  and  be- 
nevolence; and  in  the  exercise  of  these  virtues  thou  wilt 
find  joys  inconceivable  to  the  sordid  sons  of  earth  ;  thou 
wilt  endeavour  to  be  to  thy  fellow-creatures,  even  in  this 
world,  a  guardian  angel,  and  a  god. 

"  Dost  thou,  O  my  soul,  consider  thyself  as  the  crea- 
ture of  Omnipotence,  formed  to  fill  a  place,  and  contri- 
bute thy  share  toward  carrying  on  a  scheme  fortht  happi- 
ness of  multitudes "?  Dost  thou  think,  there  is  no  duty- 
owing  by  thee  in  consequence  of  the  honour,  and  the  favour, 
done  thee,  in  calling  thee  forth  from  thy  original  nothing, 
and  giving  thee  an  opportunity  to  act  an  illustrious  part, 
and  rise  in  the  creation  ?  Canst  thou  think  of  thyself  as  ca- 
pable of  knowing,  fearing,  loving,  and  adoring  the  Supreme 
excellence,  and  yet  as  no  way  obliged  to  any  of  these  du- 
ties ?  Does  not,  on  the  contrary,  the  very  capacity  infer 
the  necessity  of  performing  them  '?  Canst  thou  go  on  from 
day  to  day,  and  from  year  to  year,  without  ever  raising  a 
thought  to  thy  Creator"?  Hast  thou  no  ambition  to  enno- 
ble thy  mind  with  the  contemplation  of  infinite  excellence  ? 
Hast  thou  no  desire  to  imitate  in  thy  low  sphere  the  All- 
perfect  pattern  ?  Dost  thou  think  ever  to  go  to  God,  if  thou 
dost  not  love  God  ?  The  very  Heathen  will  tell  thee,  such 
a  hope  is  absurd  !  Dost  thou  think  thy  Creator  will  raise 
thee  to  the  enjoyment  of  himself  against  thy  own  inclination, 
and  in  spite  of  thy  impiety  ?  Should  he  now  transport  thee 
to  the  third  heavens,  dost  thou  imagine  thou  wouldst  find 
any  enjoyment  there,  with  a  mind  sunk  in  sordid  sensual- 
ity, deformed  by  vicious  passions,  and  wholly  insensible  of 
the  sublime  enjoyments  of  a  state  altogether  spiritual.  As 
ever  thou  wouldst  come  to  bliss  hereafter,  and  avoid  utter 
destruction,  do  not  deceive  thyself  in  a  matter  of  infinite 
co! i sequence,  and  where  a  mistake  will  be  irrecoverable. 
Thou  knowest,  that  as  the  tree  falls,  so  it  will  lie  ;  that  as 
death  leaves  thee,  so  judgment  will  find  thee  ;  that  there, 

3    T-T 


522  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

will  be  no  miracle  wrought  in  thy  favour,  to  make  thee  fit 
for  future  happiness  ;  but  that  thou  wilt  of  course  be  dis- 
posed of  according  to  what  thou  shalt  be  found  fit  for ;  that 
thy  future  state  will  be  what  thou  thyself  hast  made  it. 
That  therefore  to  think  of  passing  thy  life  in  vice  and  folly, 
and  to  hope  to  be  wafted  to  future  happiness  upon  the 
wings  of  a  few  lazy  and  ineffectual  wishes  and  prayers 
in  old  age,  or  on  a  death  bed,  is  to  expect  to  be  reward- 
ed, not  according  to  thy  works,  but  to  thy  presumptuous 
hopes.  Which  is  inconsistent  both  with  reason  and 
scripture.  It  is  to  think  to  attain  the  greatest  of  all  prizes, 
without  any  trouble.  Yet  thou  knowest  that  even  the 
trifles  of  this  world  are  not  attained  by  wishing ;  but  by 
industry.  It  is  to  imagine,  that  the  infinitely  wise  Gover- 
nor of  tne  world  will  be  put  off  in  a  manner  which  no  earthly 
superior  would  regard  otherwise  than  as  the  highest  inso- 
lence. Set  thyself  therefore,  if  thou  hast  any  thought,  in 
good  earnest  to  disengage  thy  attention  from  the  vision- 
ary delusions,  and  sordid  gratifications,  of  the  present 
state  ;  and  to  fix  thy  affections  on  the  only  object  that  is 
worthy  of  them,  or  will  prove  adequate  to  them.  Acquaint 
thyself  with  his  perfections.  Solace  thyself  with  his  love. 
Prostrate  every  power  and  every  faculty  before  him,  in 
humble  adoration,  and  self-annihilation.  Trust  to  him  (in 
well-doing)  for  the  supply  of  every  want,  for  the  life  that 
now  is,  and  for  eternity.  Sacrifice  every  favourite  passion, 
and  every  craving  appetite,  every  prospect  in  life,  with 
family,  and  friends,  and  life  itself,  to  his  obedience.  Never 
think  thou  hast  done  enough,  or  canst  do  too  much,  to 
gain  his  approbation.  For  if  thou  dost  not  secure  that,  it 
will  be  of  no  consequence  to  thee,  if  all  the  princes  and 
potentates  on  earth  frown  upon  thee. 

"  Hast  thou  considered,  Omy  soul,  the  stupendous  scene 
which  Revelation  opens  before  thee?  Hast  thou  attended, 
to  the  view  there  given  of  the  dignity  of  thy  nature?  It  is 
to  restore  thee,  and  thy  unhappy  offending  fellow-creatures, 
to  pardon,  to  virtue,  and  to  happiness,  that  Heaven  came 
down  to  tabernacle  with  men  ;  that  the  Lord  of  angels  and 
archangels  humbled  himself  to  die  by  the  hands,  which 
himself,  by  the  power  of  the  Father,  created.  It  was  to 
raise  thee,  and  such  as  thee,  mean  and  wretched  as  thou 
art  at  present,  to  greatness  and  glory,  inconceivable  not 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  523 

only  to  thyself,  but  to  the  brightest  seraph  in  heaven ;  it 
was  for  this,  that  he,  whom  the  celestial  hosts  obey,  hum- 
bled himself  to  a  station,  and  underwent  sufferings,  which 
thou  wouldest  think  thyself  (guilty  as  thou  art)  hardly 
treated  in  being  exposed  to.     And  canst  thou,  O  my  soul, 
allow  thyself  to  think  of  vice  as  slight,  or  venial,  which  to 
prevent,  and  whose  fatal  effects  to  cure,  thou  knowest 
what  an  apparatus  has  by  Infinite  Wisdom  been  thought 
necessary?  Canst  thou  think  of  any  thing  as  desirable, 
besides  virtue;    which   alone  will,   through  the  Divine 
mercy,  secure  universal  happiness?  Canst  thou  think  of 
any  thing  as  terrible  but  vice,  which,  if  suffered  to  pre- 
vail, would  unhinge  the  creation  ?  Wilt  thou  not  attend 
to  the  only  lesson,  thou  art  placed  in  this  state  of  disci- 
pline to  learn,— Obedience  ?  Wilt  thou  shut  thine  eyes, 
and  stop  thine  ears,  against  every  object  around  thee? 
For  every  object  teaches  that  important  lesson :  Wilt  thou 
pervert  thy  own  understanding,  and  blind  thy  own  con- 
science ?  For  the  excellency  of  virtue,  and  the  ruinous  ten- 
dency of  vice,  are  written  upon  every  faculty  of  the  mind 
in  characters  indelible :  Wilt  thou,  to  crown  all,  to  seal 
thy  own  destruction,  and  heap  on  thyself  damnation,  wilt 
thou  neglect  or  oppose  the  immediate  call  of  Heaven  it- 
self, warning  thee  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  and  to 
work  out  wiih  fear  and  trembling  thy  own  salvation?  Thou 
canst  not  think  thyself  sure  of  happiness,  without  taking 
the  least  thought  about  it ;    Thou  canst  not  imagine  it 
absolutely  impossible  that  thou  shouldest  come  to  destruc- 
tion :  If  that  were  the  case,  to  what  purpose  was  conscience 
placed  in  the  human  breast  ?  To  what  end  were  the  awful 
warnings  of  sickness  and  pain,  of  judgments  from  heaven 
on  guilty  nations,  and  death,  the  bitter  draught  to  be  drunk 
by  every  individual  of  the  species ;  for  what  end  were 
those  warnings  sent,  if  future  happiness  were  the  unavoid- 
able and  appointed  fate  of  all  mankind  promiscuously,  the 
vicious  as  well  as  the  virtuous,  the  impious  as  well  as  the 
devout  ?  As  to  revelation,  it  is  the  awful  voice  of  God  him- 
self.    Hear  how  kind,  and  yet  how  solemn  its  remon- 
stances 

"Hear,  O  Heavens!  give  ear,  O  Earth!  To  thee,  O 
Man,  I  call !  My  voice  is  to  the  Sons  of  men.  The  Judge 
of  all  the  earth  will  do  right.     He  will  by  no  means  clear 


524  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

the  (impertinently)   wicked.     He  is  a  consuming  fire  to 
the  workers  of  iniquity.     He  is  of  purer  eves  than  to  be- 
hold iniquity,  or  look   upon  evil.     The  wicked  shall  not 
stand  in  his  sight.     All  that  forget  God  shall  be  turned 
into  hell.     The  soul  that  sins,  it  shall  die.     Without  holi- 
ness no  man  shall  see  the  Lord.     For  every  idle  word  men 
shall  be  brought  into  judgment.     If  any  man  bridles  not 
his  tongue,  that  man's  religion  is  vain.     Let  every  one 
who    names  the  name  of   Christ  depart  from  iniquity. 
Let  him  cleanse  himself  from  all  filthiness  of  flesh  and 
spirit,  and  perfect  holiness  in  the  fear  of  God.     Let  him 
keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  world;  for  if  any  man 
love  the  world,  and  the  things  of  the  world,  the  love  of 
the  Father  is  not  in  him.     Let  him  avoid  every  appear, 
ance  of  evil.     Let  him  lay  aside  every  weight,  and  the  sin 
that  does  most  easily  beset  him,  and  run  the  race  set  before 
him.   Let  him  pluck  out  right  eyes,  and  cut  off  "right  hands  ; 
that  is,  root   out  vicious  inclinations,   though'as  dear  to 
him,  and  as  hard  to  part  with.     Let  him  resolve  faithfully 
to  practise  whatsoever  thjngs  are  true,  honest,  pure,  lovely, 
and  of  good  report.     Let  him  study  the  virtues  of  humil- 
ity, meekness,   patience,  forbearance,  resignation,   forti- 
tude.    Let  him  den)-  ungodliness  and  worldly  lust,  and 
resolve  to  jive  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly'     Let  him 
have  respect  to  ail  the  Divine  commandments  ;  for  who- 
ever (habitually)  offends  in  one  point,  is  guilty  against  the 
whole  law  ;  as  he  thereby  insults  the  authority  which  fra- 
med the  whole.     If  any  man  will  be  a  disciple  of  Christ, 
let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross  (if  he  be  calied 
to  it)  and  follow  him.     For  he  who  does  not  hate  (that  is, 
overlook)  father  and  mother,  and  wife  and  children,   and 
houses  and  lands,  for  his  sake,  is  not  worthy  of  him.     And 
whoever,  in  the  worst  of  times,  denies  'Christ,  and  his 
religion,  before  men,  him  will  Christ  deny  before  his  Fa- 
ther and  his  holy  angels.     For  the  discipas  of  Christ  must 
not  i.  ..r  them  who  can  only  kill  the  body,   but  after  that 
candojio  more.     He  has  forewarned  them   whom  they 
shall  fear;  even  Him,   who,  after  he  has  killed  the  body, 
can  likewise  destroy  the  soul  in  hell.     Let  the  Christian 
strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate;   For  strait  is  the  gate, 
and  narrow  the  way,  which  leads  to  life,  and  few  there  be 
^hat  find  it ;  and  wide  is  the  gate,  and  broad  the  way  which 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION.  525 

leads  to  destruction,  and  many  there  be  who  go  in  thereat. 
Let  him  give  diligence  to  make  his  calling  and  election 
sure.  Let  him  keep  his  loins  girded,  and  his  lamp  burn- 
ing, like  those  who  wait  for  the  coming  of  their  lord. 
Let  him  stand  fast  in  the  faith  without  wavering.  Let 
him  take  the  whole  armour  of  God,  since  he  must  wrestle 
not  only  with  flesh  and  blood,  but  with  principalities  and 
powers.  Let  him  add  to  his  faith  virtue,  and  knowledge, 
and  temperance,  and  patience,  and  godliness,  and  benevo- 
lence. Let  him  be  careful  that  all  those  virtues  be  in  him  ; 
and  that  they  abound  and  increase.  Let  him  resolve  to 
go  on  to  perfection,  forgetting  past  attainments,  and  reach- 
ing forward  to  the  things  which  are  before,  or  those  de- 
grees of  virtue  which  he  has  not  yet  attained  ;  let  him  en- 
deavour to  walk  as  Christ  walked  ;  (not  form  his  charac- 
ter according  to  the  example  of  men  of  the  world)  let  him 
be  a  follower  of  God;  (not  a  fashion)  let  him  endeavour 
to  be  perfect,  even  as  his  heavenly  Father  is  perfect.  Let 
him  not  be  contented  with  ordinary  degrees  of  goodness  ; 
but  take  care  that  his  righteousness  exceed  that  of  scribes 
and  pharisees,  and  formal  professors.  And  let  him  re- 
solve, in  spite  of  all  opposition,  to  persevere  to  the  end,  fight- 
ing the  good  fight  of  faith,  and  working  out  his  own  sal- 
vation. For  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  and 
all  his  holy  angels  with  him  ;  and  he  shall  sit  on  the  throne 
of  his  glory.  And  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all  nations. 
And  he  shall  separate  the  good  from  the  wicked.  And 
he  shall  say  to  the  good  on  his  right  hand,  come,  ye  bless- 
ed of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you 
from  the  foundation  of  the  wrorld.  And  on  the  wicked 
on  his  left,  he  shall  pass  the  dreadful  and  irreversible  sen- 
tence, depart,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for 
the  devil  and  his  angels. 

"  Here  is  what  ought  to  the  highest  degree  to  alarm 
thee,  O  my  soul,  if  thou  hast  not  given  thyself  up  to  a 
spirit  of  stupidity  and  insensibilitv.  Consider,  in  time, 
ere  it  be  too  late,  what  thou  hast  to  do.  Here  is  life  and 
death,  the  blessing  and  the  curse,  fairly  set  before  thee  for 
thy  choice.  If  thou  deceivest  thyself,  thou  alone  will  be 
the  loser  ;  and  thy  loss  will  be  irretrievable.  For  it  is  the 
loss,  not  of  fading  wealth,  or  momentary  pleasure,  but  of 
endless  hnppjness  and  inconceivable  glory.     It  is  the  loss 


526  OF  REVEALED  RELIGION. 

of  thyself.  And  what  wilt  thou  find  to  make  thee  up  for 
the  loss  of  thyself?  Put  then  the  case  the  most  that  can 
be  to  the  advantage  of  the  choice  of  virtue  ;  still  thou  wilt 
find  virtue  to  be  thy  true  wisdom,  and  thy  only  interest; 
and  the  choice  of  vice  to  be  the  very  madness  of  folly. 
Suppose,  on  one  hand,  thou  wert  sure  thou  couldest,  by 
various  wicked  arts,  attain  the  full  enjoyment  of  every 
earthly  delight ;  that  thou  wert  certain  of  gaining  the  em- 
pire of  the  world,  and  of  revelling  in  wealth  and  wanton- 
ness, like  the  leviathan  in  the  deep,  for  a  whole  century  of 
years :  If  for  this  thou  wert  to  sell  thy  everlasting  happi- 
ness ;  if  for  this  thou  wert  to  expose  thyself  to  utter  de- 
struction, where  would  be  the  gain  ?  Rather,  would  not 
the  loss  be  infinite,  and  the  folly  of  choosing  it  infinite  ? 
Suppose,  on  the  other  hand,  that  virtue  and  religion  abso- 
lutely required  thy  submitting  to  poverty,  affliction,  and 
persecution  for  life,  and  to  the  fiery  trial  of  martyrdom  at 
last ;  to  consider,  whether  thou  oughtest  in  prudence  to 
choose  the  light  afflictions  of  the  present  state,  which  are 
but  for  a  moment,  and  are  to  be  followed  with  an  exceed- 
ing and  eternal  weight  of  glory  ;  or  to  throw  thyself  into 
the  hideous  ruin  and  perdition,  which  awaits  the  wicked 
hereafter ;  to  conside r  or  hesitate  which  of  these  ought  to 
be  chosen,  would  it  not  be  a  folly  infinitely  greater  than  his, 
who  should  hesitate  whether  he  ought  to  throw  himself 
out  of  a  window  when  the  house  is  on  fire,  or  to  take  to 
the  boat  when  the  ship  was  sinking  *?  Suppose,  that  the  fu- 
ture issue  of  virtue  and  vice  respectively  were  in  some 
measure  doubtful,  instead  of  being  certain  :  Suppose  it 
were  possible,  that  vice  might,  by  some  inconceivable 
means,  come  to  escape,  and  that  there  were  any  appearance 
of  common  sense  in  imagining  that  it  might  so  happen, 
that  virtue  might  miss  of  its  reward  hereafter  ;  who  would 
hesitate  a  moment,  whether  he  ought  to  choose  what  he 
knows  he  cannot  long  enjoy  at  any  rate,  and  to  reject  what, 
if  he  attains  it,  will  hold  to  eternity  ;  whether  he  ought  to 
avoid  afflictions,  which  he  is  certain  must,  in  a  very  few 
years  at  most,  be  over  ;  or  to  make  sure  of  avoiding  a  pun- 
ishment, which,  if  it  come  upon  him,  will  be  lasting,  and 
severe  beyond  all  imagination.  Upon  any  principle,  the 
choice  of  a  vicious  course  is  apparently  to  the  highest  de- 
gree foolish  and  desperate.     But  taking  things  according 


OF  REVEALED  RELIGION".  527 

to  their  true  state,  that  is,  choosing  vice,  which  is  the  dis- 
ease of  the  mind,  the  bane  of  peace  and  happiness  even  in 
this  life,  and  rejecting  virtue,  which,  except  in  the  rare 
and  unusual  case  of  persecution,  is  its  own  reward,  even 
in  the  present  state ;  acting  in  direct  opposition  to  the  con- 
viction of  conscience,  to  the  remonstrances  of  the  wise  and 
good  of  all  ages,  and  to  the  voice  of  nature,  and  of  Divine 
revelation  itself! — All  for  the  sake  of  what  is  vanity  and 
vexation  when  attained,  and  uncertain  beforehand  whether 
at  all  attainable  ;  but  certainly  not  to  be  enjoyed  long,  if 
attained !  To  give  up  a  happiness,  certain,  lasting,  and 
immense — not  for  the  actual  enjoyment,  but  for  the  bare 
expectation  of  a  perishingadvantage  ! — to  sell  one's  soul — 
not  for  the  possession  of  a  vanity,  but  for  the  uncertain 
prospect  of  a  vanity  ! — to  give  up  heaven  and  brave  dam- 
nation— not  for  a  reality,  but  for  a  dream  I — for  the  hopes 
of  a  dream.  What  words,  what  tongue  of  men  or  angels 
can  express  the  desperation  of  this  madness  !  Yet  this  is 
the  wisdom  of  reasoning  men.  This  is  the  prudence  of 
the  children  of  this  world." 

Let  the  reader  make  it  his  constant  practice  in  this  man- 
ner to  examine  himself,  with  a  care  proportioned  to  the 
importance  of  the  worth  of  an  immortal  soul.  And  would 
to  God  that  the  whole  human  species  could  have  been 
brought  to  the  wisdom  of  valueing  themselves  according  to 
their  worth.  And  that  it  were  possible,  in  a  consistency 
with  the  freedom  of  moral  agents,  that  no  one  individual 
of  the  human,  or  any  other  rank  of  intelligences,  should 
utterly  perish  ;  but  that  every  rational  mind  that  has  been 
blest  with  existence,  might  at  last  attain  the  end  of  its  ex- 
istence, the  beatific  enjoyment  of  its  Creator. 


THE  END. 


ra 


